


The Axeman of New Orleans

by signifier



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved
Genre: Alternative Universe - Serial Killers, M/M, kind of making it up as i go, pls enjoy, ryan just wants to live smh, shane is oddly suspicious, time period is wrong cos i cba for setting it in the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-05-16 10:59:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14810072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifier/pseuds/signifier
Summary: Ryan’s out at a bar one night ‘jazzing it up’ to avoid the axemans wrath. Little does he know the cute guy next to him is the axeman.-‘It was funny, to him, the things he could stand and the things he couldn’t. He could slit someones throat ear to ear, but he couldn’t touch old food that had been left on a plate overnight. He was fine with feeling the splatter of blood hit his face and his clothes when he’d struck an artery, but he had to hold his breath when taking the trash out. He could take an axe to someones head, deform their skull and leave them dying, but he couldn’t stand coffee.’





	1. American Beauty/American Psycho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It went without saying that Ryan Bergara had been blessed by the man sitting next to him.

“You fond of jazz, then?”

Ryan turned his head to the left, his beer halfway to his mouth as he paused to stare at the stranger sitting next to him. He was tall; he could tell that much from the way his limbs didn’t quite look right on the small bar stall. He had brown eyes, hidden behind glasses in a clear frame and hair that was dark blonde, maybe even brown depending on the lighting. The man was dressed in a black sweater, the collar of a pink shirt sticking out at the top, complimenting his dark features in a way that Ryan didn’t realise the colour pink could do.

It went without saying that Ryan Bergara had been blessed by the man sitting next to him.

He shrugged, taking a small sip of his drink before setting it down on the counter. “In all honesty, not really, but i’d rather suffer for a few hours than get my head caved in.”

The man laughed, a loud sound that had his eyes crinkling in a way that made him look even more approachable than he already was. “That’s a fair point, I suppose. I’ve always enjoyed jazz, there’s a sort of..unique elegance to it, i think.”

Ryan nodded, taking another sip of his drink. “Seems like you and the axeman would be good friends.”

This startled a laugh out of the tall man, his hand going to his drink. 

“I suppose we would. Jeez, ‘the Axeman of New Orleans’. That’s quite a title to have.”

Something about the underlying tone of pride in the mans voice sent a faint shiver up Ryans spine, but he elected to ignore it for the sake of the conversation that he was enjoying so much.

“Do you think he read the nickname in the paper and was like ‘axeman of new orleans..yeah i like that. Nice ring to it..’” Ryan grinned as he spoke, raising his glass to his lips without taking his eyes off the other man.

“Nah, I’d say he was more disappointed, like ‘the axeman? Is that the best they could come up with? Creativity is dead.’”

It was Ryans turn to laugh, half of it muffled into the brim of his glass. “You say that like you know him.” It was a teasing comment, meant to edge on more joking conversation.

The man turned his head back towards the bar, smirking in a way that would have you believe he knew something you didn’t. He picked up his drink, pausing as it got to his lips and looking at Ryan out of the corner of his eye.

“Now wouldn’t that be a story.”

He downed the rest of his beer like a shot, the glass slamming back down onto the bar counter.

 

-

 

“Why didn’t the-“ Ryan began, his own laugh interrupting his sentence as he thought about the words that were soon to come tumbling out of his mouth. Four drinks in and Ryan was starting to feel tipsy, his hands flat against the cool surface of the table he was now sat at. The pair had moved into a booth when they realised their not so sensitive conversation was being overheard by the people around them at the bar.

Sat across from him, was Shane Madej, a 32 year old from Illinois who moved to New Orleans due to work.

“Why didn’t they just throw out their axes?” Ryan finally got his amusement under control, managing to get the sentence out. Shane laughed, a sound that Ryan was quickly becoming fond of. It was rare to find someone who matched your humour in such a way that Shane matched his, especially in such a dark situation. 

“Yeah, yeah, do you think one of them was like ‘Honey? Maybe if we didn’t have an axe, the axeman wouldn’t crush our skulls.’”

Ryan cut in, finishing Shane’s joke before he could.

“‘Throw out our axes?! With the AXEman around?! I don’t see how that’s remotely a good idea.’”

Shane slapped his hand down on the table as he laughed, their half empty glasses jogging slightly at the forceful vibrations.

“God, we probably shouldn’t be joking about this, I mean, people have died.” Ryan continued, slight guilt creeping in at the thought of the brutal murders, but this didn’t wipe the amused grin off his face. Shane nodded, almost seeming fuelled by the smile Ryan was holding. “I mean, have you actually seen the pictures of what he did to them? They became completely unrecognisable, dude, like..” Ryan’s gaze fell down to the table, his once lighthearted, joking manner falling into a more grim expression. Although, Shane could have sworn he caught a glimpse of awe in the mans brown eyes. “like mush. How sick do you have to be to do that to a complete stranger? Let alone multiple strangers, i mean..fuck me man.” He shook his head, taking a long sip of his drink before finally turning his attention back to the man before him.

“Shane?”

Shane was staring to the side of Ryans head, looking straight past him. His eyes, once bright and inviting, had turned dark and blank, a vacant look overcoming his face. He was frowning slightly, as if he was calculating something.

“Shane?” 

Shane snapped his eyes back to Ryans, all traces of thought seemingly gone from his face.

“Yeah. Pretty messed up.” He shifted in his seat, sliding towards the end of the booth. “All that drinking’s hit me hard man, i’ll be back.”

And with that, he was gone, disappeared into the crowd of sweaty, drunk strangers who all came together through fear, leaving Ryan with nothing but the jazz music to accompany his thoughts.

 

-

 

Shane stood with his hands clasped around the edges of the sink, watching the running water without seeing it as he planned his next move. It would be so easy to get this Ryan guy out of the bar. They could drink some more, share a few laughs, and then Shane would be a gentleman and offer to walk the man home, seeing as they both shouldn’t be driving. He found himself amused by this thought.

Killing innocent people for the sport of it? No problem. But God forbid he drives while drunk.

He lifted his head up, fixed his collar in the mirror and then shut the water off. He even flushed the toilet, just for the sake of anyone waiting outside, before leaving the bathroom and weaving his way through the crowded room.

It was amazing, really. All these strangers, some who didn’t even like jazz, drinking and conversing just for the chance to save themselves. It amused him, that the only time humanity really came together is when theres a threat at large. Shane had to admit, he’d half expected the city to ignore his note for his wording choices. ‘Persons who do not jazz it on Tuesday night (if there be any) will get the axe.’ He’d really been pushing it, just to see if people would respond to something so absurd. And they had. The whole city was alive, everywhere you went there was the sound of jazz music, and to Shane, that was quite the achievement. In all honesty, he believed he could be a lot worse; only 3 people had died out of his 5 attacks and a pregnant women had still managed to give birth to her child. Perhaps attacking a pregnant lady had been a step too far, but hey, maybe she should have thrown out her axe.

Shane found himself smiling at this thought as he got back to the booth.

 

-

 

“So, what makes them so interesting to you?”

The topic of serial killers had come up pretty quickly considering the nights situation.

“They’re just so..so.. _fascinating_ , don’t you think? I mean, the brain is such a complex thing, probably more complex than our minds can comprehend, which is kind of poetically beautiful, but anyway, there are people like Ed Kemper who became what he was through nurture,” Ryan paused in his tipsy rambling to take a breath, turning his head towards Shane.

“Who?”

“Ed Kemper? Huge, 6’9 guy who decapitated 6 women and molested their bodies?”

Shane shook his head, earning a splutter from the shorter man in response.

“He literally caved his mums head in with a hammer, cut off her head and then fucked the hole in her neck. How can you not know about this guy? Look, anyway, my point is, there are people like him who become what they are through nurture, through an upbringing or event that causes something in them to snap and become murderous. But there are other people, normal people, who just do what they do because it’s how they were born. Because it’s in their nature. And that, is what makes them so interesting. It makes them terrifying, sure, but definitely interesting.”

Ryan turned his head back towards the direction they were walking in, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. The pair had left the bar around an hour after Shane had gotten back from the bathroom and the tall man had so nicely offered to walk him home; joking that the axeman might be lurking somewhere near. It was only now, as they walked side by side that Ryan truly realised the height of Shane. He was lanky, sure, and at times it amused Ryan to just look at the man, as if he couldn’t be real with a height like that, but he seemed to use it to his advantage too. Shane seemed to almost loom over Ryan, like he was subconsciously attempting to intimidate him just by existing, but Ryan had seen the man trip over his own feet upon leaving the bar and decided there was nothing intimidating about him in the slightest.

“Psychopaths who know they’re psychopaths are predictable, in a way. You can always count on them to do something insane, but it’s the psychopaths who see themselves as normal people that you’ve got to look out for.” Shane exhaled, watching his breath fog in front of him.

It was cold out, truly cold. The type of cold that you feel in your bones. It starts with your clothes. You pull your jacket closer around you, only to feel the outside of your clothing practically thaw out at your touch; so cold it’s almost wet. Next, it seeps into your skin, sending your teeth chattering in a comforting way that lets you know your body is working to stop you from dying of hypothermia. Your hands are on fire, the cool burn an ironic side effect of such low temperatures, and you push them as far into your pockets as you can after uselessly breathing over your fingers countless times. Then it’s set into your bones, sending shivers across your body with every pump of blood through your veins.

Ryan could tell his fingers were going to be red from the cold with the way they were pulsing in his pockets. 

“I guess with a psychopath, theres a common expectance for them to do something..psychopathy. But there are so many depictions of normal that anything could happen.”

“Psychopathy?” Shane raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on his lips. 

“I’ve had quite a bit to drink and i’m freezing my balls off, excuse me if my vocabulary isn’t perfect right now.” 

Shane laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “How far away are we anyway?” 

Ryan shook his head, reluctantly removing a hand from his pocket to point straight ahead of them both. “That apartment there.”

 

-

 

After light small talk and 5 more minutes of walking, the two men made it to Ryans apartment buildings front door. Ryan fumbled with his key, partially due to the mild intoxication he was under, but most of his struggle coming from his frozen fingers. Shane stood several steps behind him, slightly amused by Ryans urgent need to get inside. He turned his attention back to the apartment building.

It was a pretty average building, and Shane was pretty sure he could remember the direction if he went from the bar first. 

“Do you, er, do you want to come in?”

Shane turned his head back towards Ryan, who was stood facing him from the now open doorway.

It could be so easy.

There was loud, uncoordinated jazz music coming from the building, mixing together to form a sound that wasn’t bearable for more than a few minutes. Shane admired the dedication of the people of New Orleans. He could accept Ryans offer, allow himself to be led to his apartment for what he assumed would be very entertaining events and then excuse himself to the kitchen before coming back out and slitting the mans throat. It would be _so easy_. 

But Shane was a man of his word, and Ryan had indeed, well and truly jazzed it tonight.

“I should really head home, actually.” He glanced over his shoulder before turning back to see Ryans slightly disappointed face. “But i’m sure i’ll see you around somewhere, Ryan Bergara.”

Ryan nodded, smiling slightly. “Don’t let the axeman get you on your way home.”

Shane smirked, an action that had been unmistakably hot in the light of the bar, now borderline off putting with half of the mans face thrown into darkness by the nights sky. He took a step backwards, putting his hands in his pockets and turning around, throwing one last comment towards Ryan over his shoulder before stalking off into the night.

 

“He wouldn’t stand a chance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title -  
> American Beauty/American Psycho - Fall Out Boy
> 
> @sig-nifier on tumblr. Feel free to message me!


	2. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was as if he was admiring a painting in a museum, and not a murder house containing one dead body and two traumatised girls.

Ryan woke up, much to his delight, to discover that the only wound to his head was a slight pounding from the night before. The soft sheets of his bed were warm from his body heat, willing him to stay and go back to sleep for a little while longer, but the overwhelming urge to find out if there was a new victim pulled him to his feet. He stalked through his apartment, running a hand through his slightly greasy hair and scratching the back of his neck. He needed a shower. He was still in his clothes from the night before, having just kicked off his shoes and fallen straight into bed and the slight crinkles in his shirt were enough to make him regret it. He found his phone thrown carelessly next to his keys on the kitchen counter and picked it up, quickly unlocking it and opening his news app, his eyes scanning the digital words on the screen.

There were no new stories concerning the axeman. Ryan found himself relieved that the killer had kept his promise and that nobody had gotten hurt, but part of him was slightly disappointed he wouldn’t have something interesting to read.

He pushed that part of him as far back into his brain as he could, throwing his phone back onto the table.

Ryan found his mind drifting towards the man he’d met at the bar. He felt almost foolish, now, in his complete sobriety, for asking Shane to come inside. He should know that going home with strangers from bars was one of the most common ways to wind up dead, but the man had politely refused, so if he was planning on murdering Ryan, he’d missed his chance. He laughed slightly at the thought. He wondered if Shane had made it home alright, and judging by the lack of news articles, he guessed he had. Unless his body hadn’t been found yet, but where can you hide a 6ft sasquatch?

Ryans thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating against the table, causing a light rattle of his keys. He walked over and picked his phone up, seeing a message from Steven.

 

Steven10:37am

Meet me and Andrew at Romanos in 20?

Ryan10:38am

Make it 30. Gotta shower.

 

-

 

Romanos was a quaint coffee shop not far from Ryans apartment. He’d become a regular of the place just as quickly as he’d fallen in love with it. It was a family business cafe and they were some of the nicest people Ryan thought he’d have the pleasure of meeting. It was run by Joesph Romano and his two nieces; Pauline and Mary. The place wasn’t very well known, and Ryan liked that. He liked the idea of living in a small town; a quiet place, with a couple of friends and a job that pays enough to get by. And that’s what he had. Unfortunately, a small town life came with a serial killer.

He pushed the door open, the familiar bell chiming above his head as the aroma of coffee hit his senses. God, Ryan truly believed the world wouldn’t turn without coffee. He found Steven and Andrew sitting in their usual seats in the corner of the room, Ryans order all ready for him. He walked over to them, sliding into his seat.

“Nice of you to finally join us.” Andrew teased, his hands wrapped around a red coffee mug.

Ryan rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink. They’d got his order right - of course they had, half the time they were ordering for each other anyway. Ryans order was pretty simple, a black coffee; which Steven judged him for, as the man was more of an iced tea guy. “I showered for you guys and this is how you treat me? Wonderful.” 

The conversation quickly turned to last nights events.

“So, did you two jazz it as instructed?” Ryan raised an eyebrow slightly, covering his amused smile with his mug.

“Of course we did. I’m pretty sure our neighbours now hate us for how loud the music was, but hey, we probably saved their lives.” Steven shrugged, earning a laugh from Andrew. “Did you jazz it despite no interest in jazz?”

Ryan smiled. He didn’t think the phrase ‘jazz it’ would ever not be funny considering it came from the threat of a murderer. “I ended up in a bar.”

So Ryan told the story of starting up a conversation with Shane, right to the end where he had invited him into his apartment. “I can’t believe the words came out of my mouth. To a complete stranger. Do i have a death wish or am i really just that desperate?”

Andrew shrugged, downing the rest of his coffee in a way that had Ryans mind wandering back to the way Shane had chugged his beer. “Well, it seemed like you and the guy really hit it off, so i guess it’s not completely unbelievable.”

“That, or your subconscious just wanted someone there to protect you from the axeman.” Steven threw in his comment, smiling at Ryan over the brim of his glass.

Ryan rolled his eyes, heard the bell of the entrance door set off and subconsciously turned his head to see who had entered. It was an instinct for someone like Ryan who could get distracted at times to look towards sound or movement in a room.

And as fate would have it, in walked a tall man who just fit under the door frame.

“Holy fuck thats him.” Ryan snapped his head back towards his friends, trying to make himself smaller in his chair as his voice came out in a hushed whisper. Andrew and Steven automatically scanned the room for the new customer despite Ryans quiet protests for them to not draw attention to their table.

“Invite him over.”

“No!”

“At least go and talk to him.”

Ryan stared at the two men before him, an almost pleading look in his eyes. Yet, somehow he found himself raising from his chair and moving deeper into the room towards the counter. He had to say something funny, something cool. Something to prove that he was just as interesting sober as he was drunk. _Jesus christ Ryan you’re 27, not 17. Get it together._

“The axeman didn’t decapitate you on the way home then.” _Nice_.

Shane turned from where he had been examining the menu above the board to look down at Ryan, a faint look of surprise covering his face. It was quickly swapped to a small smirk when he saw who he was talking to. “I see you didn’t get your head cracked open either.”

“Well there’s still hours to the day, so who knows what the night will bring.”

“Who knows indeed.” Shane smiled, sending a glance towards Joesph Romano working at the counter that went unnoticed by Ryan. “I looked up that guy, by the way - Kemper.”

“And?”

“The guys huge.”

Ryan laughed lightly, shrugging. “I tried to tell you.”

Shane nodded slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. He gestured towards the blackboard of options. “Can i get you a drink?”

Ryan instinctively followed the mans hand that pointed towards the list of drinks, his brain considering it for a second before realising he was already with friends. “I’m actually here with some people, but maybe another time.” He pointed behind him, turning back just in time to see Andrew and Stevens heads snap back towards each other as Ryan brought the other mans attention to them. “How did you find this place anyway? I’ve never seen you in here before.”

“Saw it when i walked home from your apartment last night and realised I had never been. Thought I might try it out.” Shane shrugged, looking around the room. It wasn’t a very busy cafe and Shane found the whole place to be..sickening. He had never liked coffee. He had never liked coffee shops either. They were just a place for people to spend too much money on a drink that made you far too energetic.

Not to mention the smell.

It invaded your senses, seeming to pool around you and reach your brain from every angle that it could. It clung to your clothes, becoming an extra weight that you had to lug around with you, causing it to attack anyone in a 5mile radius and start the process all over again with them. Shane had been in the room barely 5 minutes and he already had the overwhelming urge to shower. To scrub his skin raw until he was positive that every trace was gone. It was funny, to him, the things he could stand and the things he couldn’t. He could slit someones throat ear to ear, but he couldn’t touch old food that had been left on a plate overnight. He was fine with feeling the splatter of blood hit his face and his clothes when he’d struck an artery, but he had to hold his breath when taking the trash out. He could take an axe to someones head, deform their skull and leave them dying, but he couldn’t stand coffee.

“Oh, cool.” Ryan could have sworn he had watched Shane leave in the opposite direction to Romanos, but he didn’t question him. “I should return to my friends now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I should get my coffee and go.” Shane smiled, moving forwards to join the short line.

“I’ll see you around.” Ryan nodded, taking a few steps backwards before turning and walking across the shop floor, sitting back down in his chair. Steven and Andrew grinned at him.

“Was there a spark? I sensed a spark.”

Ryan scoffed, picking up his slightly lukewarm drink and taking a sip, almost cringing at the temperature.

“No. There isn’t a spark you twat. I’ve had two conversations with the guy.”

“He is awfully pretty.” Steven had his head rested in the palm of his hand, watching as Shane thanked the coffee shop owner. Andrew and Ryan turned their heads, all three of the men watching Shane leave the shop.

“I guess he is.”

Shane rounded the corner, making sure he was out of sight of the cafe before dropping the hot coffee into the nearest bin.

 

-

 

There had been another one. There had been another murder.

Ryan had awoken the next day from texts from both of his friends to check the news. So he had.

 

CAFE OWNER JOESPH ROMANO AXEMAN’S LATEST VICTIM

 

Ryan had just sat up in bed, staring at the words that were so brightly gleaming up at him. It couldn’t be true. Not Joesph. Not Joe. That man had served Ryan his first coffee when he had moved to New Orleans. Ryan could feel his breath start to pick up, a heavy weight pushing down on his chest. He forced his panic down, jumping out of bed and blindly putting on clothes.

The next 15 minutes felt like a blur. Ryan could hardly recall leaving the house and walking the short journey to the Romano household. Ryan had helped the man carry boxes to and from the cafe to his house many times before, so he knew the location well. And it was true.

The man was dead.

Ryan got as close to the house as he could, yellow tape stopping him from walking any further. He was glad for this; he felt as if his feet would carry him right into the room where it happened if the neon barrier hadn’t been stopping him. Ryan wasn’t sure why he wanted to see the damage, whether it was for conformation that Joesph was dead, or for the sick opportunity to see something that he had only ever seen in pictures before. He elected to believe it was for the sake of knowing it was true. A familiar voice saved him from his thoughts.

“Helloo? Ryan, can you hear me?”

Ryan blinked, tearing his eyes away from the house and it’s surrounding crowd, turning his attention to the tall man to his right. Who was standing on the other side of the tape.

Shane stood with his hands in his pockets, the very picture of nonchalance. He was once again dressed in a sweater, a different coloured collar poking out at the top. Ryan noticed it seemed to be a trend of his. Ryan also noticed the expensive looking camera hanging from his neck.

“Why are you here?” Ryan answered Shane’s question with his own.

Shane lifted the camera slightly, as if he thought Ryan hadn’t seen it already. “I’m a photographer for forensics. I take pictures of crime scenes so that the department can look over them later when the bodies gone, or send them off to the media when the article is published in more detail; not just the headline that they send out to let the public know whats happened.”

Ryan just stared at the man, half of it still coming from the shock that a man he’d known for so long ceased to walk the earth, but the other half was because of course Shane worked in something like this. The man was always so calm about the subject of murder, was always so quick to make a desensitised joke about a terrible event that it made sense he would work in a line that had him exposed to it so often. He supposed Shane was used to it.

“His nieces found him too. Nasty stuff.” He sucked air in through his teeth in almost a wince, crossing his arms and turning back to gaze towards the house. It was as if he was admiring a painting in a museum, and not a murder house containing one dead body and two traumatised girls. “They caught a glimpse of the axeman, though, so once they snap out of their emotional trances, we might stand a chance at catching this guy. Could take a few years.” Shane joked, smiling slightly and turning his attention back to Ryan.

Ryan didn’t smile back, just stared unseeing towards the house.

Shane’s face dropped into one of a disappointed scowl, much like a cat that was being scolded for bring a dead bird into the house. He reached out and put a firm hand on Ryans shoulder, snapping the shorter mans attention back to him.

“Meet me at the bar we met at tomorrow night, say around 8, and we can discuss this. Take your mind off it.” He didn’t wait for an answer, just let his hand slide off Ryans shoulder and half way down his arm before walking back up the driveway towards the house, his camera poised in his hands.

 

Ryan just stared, trying to comprehend the fact he’d just been asked out at a crime scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title -  
> Run - Hoizer
> 
> @sig-nifier on tumblr! Feel free to message me!


	3. Deadroses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan liked to think that if the axeman was standing in front of him he'd be able to ask all these questions before he was horrifically murdered.

It was around 5:30pm when Ryan returned from work to his apartment building. He worked in the library, and it couldn’t be a better suited job for him. It was quiet most of the time, as not many people came in, so he spent a lot of his day hiding in quiet corners and reading books from the supernatural section. When he actually had to do work, it was mostly putting books back in the right place or helping a customer check something out. He was a good employee; polite and hardworking with just enough charm to have him loved by both his employers and the general public.

He walked up the short driveway, noticing the postman walking in the opposite direction to him. He smiled and nodded as he passed the man, heading towards his own mail box out of curiosity. The only mail he ever got was bills, normally, or a paycheck, and it was too early in the month for either of those, yet the undying hope that he’d got something interesting fuelled him on. Ryan opened the top of his box, the rusted metal creaking from the lack of use and reached his hand inside.

He pulled out an envelope.

Ryan frowned, confused but not complaining at the mystery mail. He gave it a light shake, feeling something loose move around that made his heart jump a little. He loved mysteries, always had, and the fact that something out of the ordinary was happening to him excited him. Of course, it could just be something completely normal, maybe a joke from Steven or Andrew or one of his coworkers.

Ryan pushed open the front door, envelope in hand, as he raced up the first flight of stairs. He was lucky that he only had to go one floor up. He reached his own apartment, 103, and dipped his free hand into his pocket, pulling out a single key to unlock the door. He knew he should probably put it on a keychain or something, at least not have it loose, but he had just never gotten round to it.

Ryan liked his apartment. It only really contained the stuff he needed and he appreciated the simplicity of it. His living room and kitchen combined into one with a small hallway leading off towards his bedroom and bathroom. It wasn’t the first place he’d lived when he moved to New Orleans, but the previous apartment he’d lived in had been practically falling apart. Not to mention the security was awful; almost anyone could walk in. At least with his new place, he’d have to buzz a murderer up to his apartment for them to kill him.

He put his key on the kitchen counter, leaning against it, opening the envelope and emptying its contents. It contained 3 items.

The first was a razor dried with blood.

Ryan could do all but stare at the small cut of metal, holding his breath as if it would come alive and cut him at the sign of movement. He didn’t want to think of where it had come from, who had sent it, _why it had been sent_. All his mind seemed to focus on was the deep red; almost like a fine wine, crusted and clinging to the metal. It appeared almost staged, the pattern of the blood, as if someone had taken a paintbrush to an open wound and lightly brushed the red substance over the blade, the perfect mixture of violence and art. Ryan let out a shaky laugh, finally breathing, as a hand flung to his mouth. For some reason he found it very important at that particular moment to not let his emotions get the better of him - like whoever had sent this envelope was watching for his reaction.

A shaky hand that Ryan couldn’t even believe was his was reaching out to the remaining contents - two down-facing polaroid photographs. It was like he was watching a movie. He could see the character about to do something and he was stuck on the other side of the screen, begging, _screaming_ , for them to walk away. But it wasn’t a movie. What was happening right now was very real. With a shaky hand, he overturned the first polaroid.

It was a photograph of Joesph Romano.

The man was asleep in bed, his head turned to the right and his glasses neatly folded up on the nightstand next to him. He seemed very much alive. Ryan could hear heavy breaths escaping his body as he reached out for the next photo.

It was almost identical to the one beforehand. Almost.

There was a thick, jagged cut across the mans neck, hard to see through the even thicker red liquid seeping from the wound, but clearly whoever had done it had struggled. The gaping hole in the mans skull quickly took Ryans attention. It was a mess of flesh, bone and _so much blood_ that Ryan was sure he only knew it was Joe from the first photo.

The picture fell from Ryans grip as the hand covering his mouth moved to press down on his already aching chest. His lungs and throat burned as he struggled to suck in air and his knees gave way, sending him down on all fours _and jesus christ was he going to die here?_ He couldn’t for the life of him breathe, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as a deep panic seeped into his bones. This was it. He would die on his wooden floor and his neighbours would soon find him, surrounded by photos of the newest serial killer victim and the murder weapon itself. He would be labelled as the axeman of New Orleans and the real killer would walk free. His family and friends would be too ashamed to attend his funeral and the library staff would be in shock over hiring a psychopath and that would be that. This was it. He was going to _die_ on his wooden floor and his neighbours would soon find hi- a loud laugh suddenly racked his body, accompanied by gasps for air as relief settled in. He was fine. He was okay. He could breathe.

Ryan had no idea how long he stayed on his floor, laughter forcing it’s way from his body until he recovered, until he calmed down enough to pick the photo back up and shakily get to his feet. He stuffed the items back in the envelope, using his sleeve to pick up the razor. There was no way he was touching that with his bare hands. He checked the time with his phone- 5:39pm. Ryan sighed, knowing he was supposed to meet Shane at 8. Considering the circumstances, he wasn’t too keen on going out, but he didn’t have Shanes number to cancel and he felt bad about standing the guy up. He decided he would go for a little while, just so he could say that he went, and then he’d feign an excuse about having work early in the morning.

 

-

 

“But i’m telling you Ryan, it’s just not logical. Dead is dead. Theres no staying for unfinished business or haunting those who wronged you, it’s just nothingness.” Shane placed down their third beers on the table, having paused in the conversation to go and get them.

Ryan took the bottle in his hands, smiling slightly as he shook his head. He felt the dampened label sliding away as his fingernails pulled at it subconsciously. The perspiration on the bottle cooled his skin.

Shane sighed, dramatically hanging his head before bringing it back up to stare at Ryan. “Jesus, what is _wrong_ with you tonight? You’re so _boring_. Not to mention-“ he paused in his complaint, spinning Ryans two previous beer bottles around to reveal the picked off label. “You’ve been attacking your drinks since you got them.”

Ryan snapped his eyes to Shane, feeling sudden anger flare up inside of him. “Someone I knew fucking died, Shane. Gone. Ceased to exist. Sorry if i’m not up to entertaining you right now.” He scoffed, raising the bottle to his lips and taking a swig.

Shane just stared at him, his face blank with a slight frown. He never did truly understand where the sadness of losing someone came from. Everybody dies, shouldn’t it be expected? And what was the point of mourning something that wasn’t around to see it? People based emotions and reactions off what they believe another person wanted them to feel - what another person wanted to see. So, why feel sadness over a man who wasn’t able to appreciate you feeling such a thing for him? Shane sighed. “Ryan, i’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive, i just didn’t know he meant that much to you.”

Ryan’s anger seemed to dissolve under the sympathetic gaze of the taller man. “He didn’t. Well, i mean, he did.” He sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve been following the story of the axeman since it first came into the publics eye. The second there was a new victim I was reading the article, examining the pictures and then moving on with my life until the next attack. With those people, i could almost pretend that they weren’t real, that they were just part of some fictional crime drama because I didn’t know them. They weren’t connected to me. But Joesph was. I saw the man almost weekly. I made his nieces laugh. I helped him carry heavy boxes. I guess it just made the threat real.” He took another drink, realising he had been rambling as his mind flashed back to the polaroids. It took a lot of concentration to not cringe. “Sorry.”

Shane shook his head. “Don’t be.” He was silent for a while, taking the time to have a long drink. “Was there..was there something else?”

Ryan looked at Shane, almost certain the man could read his disturbed thoughts. “I-“ How would he even explain what had happened earlier? ‘Someone is taunting me?’ ‘The weapon of the most recent murder is hidden in an envelope in my cutlery draw along with before and after shots of the murder itself. But i promise i’m not the axeman.’ “Someone sent me something weird.” His voice fell into a hushed whisper, suddenly overly conscious of all the people around them. Shane leaned towards him slightly, an eyebrow raised as a look of interest spread over his face. And then he asked a question that Ryan really hadn’t been expecting.

“Can I see?”

 

-

 

15 minutes later and both men were standing in Ryans apartment, Ryan with his arms crossed and watching from afar as Shane examined the items. Ryan tried to ignore the way Shane had just picked the razor straight up, ignoring the blood as he held it between his thumb and forefinger. He tried to ignore the glint reflecting in Shanes eye as the light hit the metal. He tried to ignore the way he looked at the pictures unfazed. But then he remembered that Shane was a photographer for forensics, meaning he was exposed to this kind of thing all the time and he felt a little bit better.

He didn’t know why he needed someone to share in what was happening so badly. Maybe he needed someone else to give him a suggestion of what to do. Maybe he needed someone else to experience the horrors of the envelope and react the same way he had. Or maybe the selfish thought hidden away in the back of his mind that was begging him to drag someone down into this mess with him was the real reason.

Ryan quickly shut his thoughts off. “So?”

“Well I mean..it’s definitely weird. It had to have came straight from the axeman, as it’s before and after shots and the actual murder weapon.” He put the razor back down, leaning forward against the kitchen counter like he belonged there. “What are you gonna do?”

Ryan sighed, shaking his head. “I mean, what can I do? I’ll probably just take these to the police.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“You think they’d believe you? They’ll take one look at these photos - photos that print when taken and the murder weapon and deem you the killer.” Shane shrugged, like it was simple. Like any of this was simple.

“Then they can do a DNA or a fingerprint test or whatever the hell forensics do and see that it wasn’t me.” Ryan argued.

Shane sighed, as if he was bored of the conversation and bored of Ryan not being able to see what he was trying to say. “You touched the photos Ryan, that puts your DNA on them, and i touched the razor. They’d have us both as suspects. You’re not going to the police.” There was something about the way Shane spoke his finishing statement that had Ryan feeling kind of weird. It sounded almost like a command. A threat.

Ryan mentally shook his thoughts out of his head. Shane was here to help him. The man had involved himself in a situation that any normal person would have turned and ran from, and Ryan was somewhat grateful to have someone to share in this madness.

New Orleans was different to LA, where Ryan had lived before moving. For him, moving had been all about the adventure. It had been about starting out with absolutely nothing and seeing what kind of life would come to him. This is not what he had in mind. He had read so many stories about serial killers, murders, school shootings, unsolved mysteries - hell, even a few supposed alien sightings, and everything was always just so interesting and so fascinating that Ryan found himself constantly digging for more.

Jeffrey Dahmer dismembered 17 people, even keeping some body parts in his fridge and eating them. Ted Bundy murdered over 30 women in just 4 years. James Holmes killed 12 and injured over 70 people by opening fire during a midnight screening of The Dark Knight Rises. Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, the Columbine killers who committed the most well known and remembered school shooting in just 33 minutes before killing themselves.

It was brilliant. Not the injuries or deaths that people sustained, of course, but the actual crimes themselves. They sent so many questions flying around Ryans head. Did all of them plan it down to the last detail? Obviously the more heavy armed massacres had to be planned, but had Dahmer and Bundy set out to kill all those people? Had it started as a manslaughter and made them realise they liked it? And if they had set out to brutally murder someone, where had it come from?

And so his thoughts brought him back to the axeman. How was he picking his victims? Why was he using an axe of all things? And why the fuck was he sending the murder weapon to Ryan?

Ryan liked to think that if the axeman was standing in front him he’d be able to ask all these questions before he was horrifically killed.

It was as if Shane could hear all the thoughts swimming through Ryans head. He pushed himself off Ryans counter, straightening up to his full height and walking towards him. He placed a hand on the shorter mans shoulder, speaking softly. “Hey, Ryan, I wouldn’t worry about it. It’s just some sick prank and i’m sure it’ll blow over soon. Everything’s going to be okay.” He smiled encouragingly.

With Shane so close to him, Ryan was able to fully appreciate the mans face.

He could tell now, in the proper light of his apartment that Shane was indeed a brunette. Everything about him just seemed so soft. He had stubble lightly covering his jawline, and faint traces of dimples etched into his skin. His eyelashes were thick, making his eyes - _oh those eyes_ \- appear darker than they were.

In that moment, looking into those warm brown eyes, Ryan truly believed things would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title -  
> Deadroses - Blackbear
> 
> @sig-nifier on tumblr! Feel free to message me!


	4. The Bad Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane made dead eye contact with Ryan, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he smiled oh-so-innocently at the shorter man. “As charming as i’m sure he is, he’s not the employee I’m interested in.”

A few days later and things for Ryan were pretty much back to normal. The fact he now had to get coffee from Starbucks instead of Romanos tugged a little at his heart, but despite that, nothing had changed. There were no new axeman killings and Ryan received no more exotic mail. For the time being, Ryan could just live his life and breathe.

Shane had given him his number the night he had come over and had told him to text him if anything else happened. Nothing had, but Ryan had an overwhelming urge to text him anyway. Maybe he just wanted to have a positive reason to text the man - one that didn’t include a serial killer trying to communicate with him.

The library was dead, meaning Ryan had the chance to hide away in a corner and slip out his phone. The library was always quiet, but working a morning shift was like getting paid for doing nothing. He worked with a guy called Adam in the mornings, a reserved man who spent his time at the front desk; giving Ryan free roam of the library floor. Books were one of the soul reasons why Ryan had such an interest in crime. You just couldn’t beat sitting alone and reading all about a horrific murder. He had one of the many books from the crime section open on his lap, the pages displaying information on the well known Charles Manson, but his attention was on his phone as he tried to figure out how to casually start a conversation with Shane without seeming too bothered. God, he felt like he was back in high school, trying to act cool around his crush. Not that this - whatever this was - was a crush.

“You seem hard at work.”

Ryan physically jumped, his grip tightening on his phone as his other hand shot out to catch the book from falling to the floor. He quickly locked his phone, looking up to see Shane towering over him. The man was wearing a dark coloured denim jacket over the top of a red hoodie. He also had a black baseball cap on the top of his head, something Ryan had never seen him wear before. With Ryan sitting down the height distance seemed just ridiculous, so he quickly got to his feet, sliding his phone back into his pocket and holding the now closed book in his hands. “Clearly I am with all of these customers to tend to.” He gestured around the near empty room. There were two other people in the library beside them; a woman across the room scanning the top shelf and Adam, who had his head in his hand and seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open.

Shane laughed, his eyes following Ryans gesture. “Can’t believe you had the audacity to sit down when your friend over there is drowning in customers.” They both turned their gazes to Adam, watching his head slip from his palm as he almost dozed off. The pair stifled their laughter in the quiet room.

“What are you doing here anyway? Never seen you in here before. Come to scope out all the hot chicks?” Ryan joked, smiling up at Shane. He seemed to be seeing him in a lot of places that he hadn’t before recently.

Chuckling, Shane shook his head. “‘Hot chicks’ as you so respectfully put it, aren’t really my preference.”

Holy fuck. Did that mean what Ryan thought it meant? He threw another joke Shane’s way, testing the atmosphere. “Well i’m pretty sure Adam’s not seeing anyone if you want me to put a good word in for you.” He glanced back towards his quiet coworker, whose head was now down on the front desk, before looking back towards Shane.

Shane made dead eye contact with Ryan, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he smiled oh-so-innocently at the shorter man. “As charming as i’m sure he is, he’s not the employee I’m interested in.”

If Ryan had been drinking something, this would be the moment where he spat it out. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks as a light blush broke out on his skin.

“Well fuck me! Did I make Ryan Bergara blush?” Shane feigned shock, the amusement clear on his face. Ryan lightly hit him with his book, making the man break out in laughter.

“You prick, I was about to be genuinely nice to you then but not anymore.”

“I’m crushed.”

“You should be, I’m a damn catch.”

Ryan grinned at Shane, getting the same expression in return. Their laughter died down, leaving them just sort of gazing at each other; both of them trying to think of something to say or do.

If this was a movie, Ryan believed this would be the part where they kissed.

“Would you want to come over tonight? I could cook something or we could watch a movie?” Ryan suddenly felt sort of nervous, half expecting the man to start laughing and say this was all a joke, that he wasn’t actually interested in Ryan. He gripped the book a little bit tighter in his hands.

Then Shane brought a hand up to his face, turned his head slightly to the left, leant down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

Ryan was stunned for a few seconds. He’d been kissed before, sure, but there was something so soft and gentle and _innocent_ in his touch that it threw him off guard. Even the way Shane had held his jaw to turn his head had been a ghost of fingertips. Either the man was a pure gentleman, or he was a tease. Ryan prayed it was the latter.

“Sounds great. I’ll come around 6.” Shane smirked, as if he knew exactly what sort of thoughts were swimming around Ryans head. He leant in close, his voice barely a whisper with the slightest hint of a commanding tone. “Now get back to work.”

Then he just turned and left. Not even looking back.

Ryan shivered. An actual, full body shiver that had him glad the library was empty. _Get a grip, Ryan, you’re not 18._ No, but Shane sure made him feel it.

Maybe he did have a crush.

 

-

 

“What are you gonna wear?”

“What movie?”

“What are you gonna cook?”

“Can you cook?”

Questions were being bombarded at Ryan as he sat on Steven and Andrews couch. Their apartment was similar to Ryans, but more homely. Since Ryan lived alone he didn’t really care for making his house anything more than it needed to be. “It was a spur of the moment thing. Yes I can cook, I might not be as in touch with food as the two of you but I’m not completely incapable.” He laughed, then paused, his smile faltering. “Do you think it was a mistake?”

“Asking him over? No. He seems to like you and it’s obvious you like him so why not give it a go.” Andrew shrugged, his arms crossed as he looked at Ryan. Forever the voice of reason.

“And if it all goes to shit, you fuck the guy and avoid him forever.” Stevens face was completely serious for a few seconds before he started to laugh. It was no surprise that Andrew and Steven had found each other. They completed each other in a way that had you wishing you had what they had. Ryan had never been that interested in relationships before, he always figured it would just happen when he did, but sitting in his friends house at that moment - Ryan felt somewhat lonely. Lonely in a way that had him missing something he never really had before. He wasn’t expecting Shane to be ‘the one’, hell, he didn’t even believe that someone could be ‘the one’, but he was really hoping something good would come from tonight. Ryan mentally shook his head, zoning back into the conversation with his friends.

“Was that your plan for our first date?”

“Yeah, but I liked you so I kept you around.

“Oh good, lucky me.”

Ryan smiled, a sense of warmth and affection flooding through him. He quickly checked the time on his phone, realising he should leave. “I should go. I’ll see you guys later.” He stood up, heading towards the door as Stevens voice called out after him.

“Make good choices!”

 

-

 

“It’s a classic! You can’t not like it.”

“It’s 5 asshole kids in one room for like 6 hours. How is that entertaining?”

“You’re killing me Ryan. Brian wasn’t an asshole - that kid was pure as fuck.”

“Fine. He was the only good person in that movie.” Ryan rolled his eyes, passing Shane a beer from the fridge. With dinner over, they were trying to decide on a movie to watch. Ryan had cooked pasta, following some fancy recipe Steven had sent him a while ago, and it had turned out pretty okay. Shane seemed to like it, and if he hadn’t then he was an awfully good actor. The night was going well - they’d fallen into conversation so easily and Ryan felt like he’d known the man forever. Not to mention the ever-growing crush that was spreading like a virus through Ryan. At one point their hands had brushed when they both went for the TV and Ryan could have sworn he felt an actual spark. God, it was like he was living a romcom with a subplot of a serial killer running around.

“How about The Stanford Prison Experiment?”

Ryan could have sworn he felt the oxytocin spreading around his brain. “Sure, I love that movie.” He moved to sit down next to the taller man; who had his legs crossed in a figure four, one hand gripping the remote as he controlled the TV and the other arm extended across the back of the couch. It looked like he belonged there. Ryan kept a good distance from Shane, not wanting to get in the mans space. Or maybe he just knew there would be no way he could focus on a movie if he could feel the body heat radiating from Shane next to him. He must have looked pretty awkward on his own sofa, as Shane laughed and draped his arm around Ryan, pulling the shorter man closer to him.

10 minutes passed and Ryan was truly strugging. He was almost certain Shane could hear his heart beat. The light drag of Shane’s fingernails over his arm were overly distracting and he was half-certain the man was doing it on purpose.

“I’m pretty sure I can actually see the clogs turning in your head.” Shanes teasing voice came out as a murmur, his breath warm on the side of Ryans face.

He turned his head, finding out he was a lot closer to Shane than he thought he was. “You’re watching me instead of the film. That’s borderline creepy dude.”

Shane smiled, his eyes watching Ryans mouth as he spoke. He seemed to shift closer, the hand on Ryans arm sliding up to rest on the side of his neck. “You’re a lot nicer to look at.” He was so close that Ryan could feel his hot breath hit his face.

“Such a smooth talker.” Ryan swallowed, a movement that Shane could feel under his hand along with Ryans ever racing pulse.

“So i’ve been told.” And then they were kissing. Shane pulled Ryan towards him, closing the remaining gap between them.

It was soft. Gentle. Such an innocent kiss for the thoughts running through Ryans head. He twisted his body, trying to get up higher on the couch without breaking the kiss. He felt Shane’s other hand on his jaw, attempting to pull him even closer. The kiss deepened, a tongue sliding into a mouth, meeting another as the two bodies slid together, hands touching, pulling, grasping. Shane put a hand on Ryans chest, pushing him backwards to lay on the sofa - but never breaking away. Ryan just let himself be led backwards, his legs tangling with Shane’s as the older man hovered above him, hands either side of his head. Then Shane’s mouth was gone from his. Before Ryan could complain he felt a rough - borderline harsh - kiss pressed into his neck, working into his skin. Ryan was trying hard to not make a sound, but when he felt teeth lightly grazing his skin, becoming more aggressive as Shane worked on marking his neck; he straight up moaned. A low sound that seemed to surge Shane on as he fiercely kissed Ryan once more, a clash of teeth and a mixture of sounds from the both of them. His hand trailed down Ryans chest before running up under his shirt.

He could feel the warmth of Ryans skin, the way his soft flesh dipped under his fingers when he applied pressure. He could feel the light dent of the mans ribs and the way Ryan faltered slightly in his kiss when he ran a fingernail over his nipple. His mind started to wander; wondering what it would look like, what it would feel like to have the man writhing underneath him as he carved into his skin, to see the dark red contrast with his tanned body. He wanted to know what it felt like to sink his teeth into the mans flesh and feel the skin tear away with a flick of his head.

But at the same time Shane wanted to know what it felt like to have Ryan be his. He wanted to be the reason the man laughed. He wanted to be the one Ryan came to with his problems. He wanted Ryan to rely on him. It was the reason he had sent Ryan that little gift. He knew it would be on the mans mind once he opened it - all he had to do then was push enough for Ryan to tell him. For Ryan to confide in him.

And he had.

Shane was completely in control of the situation and it had only taken him a couple of days. He had to admit he was even a little impressed by himself, but at the same time he felt weird about it and he didnt know why. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done this before, but with Ryan it felt different, almost wrong. _Almost._

He hadn’t noticed that Ryan had broken away from him until he spoke.

“Are you alright? We can stop if you want.” He sounded breathless. Shane loved it.

“I’m fine I just..are you alright?” He realised he sounded just as breathless as Ryan.

Ryan nodded, smiling. “Yeah. Maybe we should just slow it down a second you know.” He broke eye contact. “As much fun as i’m having i’m not really one to..on the first date, so..” He looked back towards Shane.

The mans face was blank and for a second Ryan thought he had fucked it all up. And then he smirked. “So this is a date?”

Ryan rolled his eyes, pushing Shanes chest so that they were sitting up, feeling a hand slip out from under his shirt. “Of course not - just two bros broing it out.”

Shane laughed before wrapping his hand in the front of Ryans shirt and dragging him forward, placing another firm kiss to the mans lips. “We should definitely ‘bro out’ some more.”

Well. Ryan couldn’t argue with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title -  
> The Bad Thing - Arctic Monkeys 
> 
> @sig-nifier on tumblr! Feel free to message me!


	5. Let’s Kill Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He should have risked the extra seconds and taken his time to deal with her nice and slow. Should have really made her feel the consequences of her actions.

The autumn air mixed well with the night-time chill, leaving soft goosebumps over the skin. October. The 10th month of the year and definitely his favourite, almost for Halloween alone. You see, Halloween was a time where things in society that were shunned became accepted. Ghouls, demons, eating candy every hour, scaring little kids and just being an all-round prick suddenly became allowed in everyday life. You jump out at a child in April and you’re a creep. You do it in October and people laugh. He loved the costumes, the decorations, the food; but most of all he loved the ironic origin of the holiday. Halloween had started as an ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, where people would light bonfires and dress up _to ward off_ ghosts, but the tradition quickly became a day full of tricks and horrors. The day was said to be the end of summer and the beginning of winter; a time that humanity often associated with death.

He chuckled to himself. _How fitting_.

October was a time when people liked to be scared and well - you’ve got to give the people what they want.

The house was pretty average. He’d learnt those are the ones you wanted to go for when breaking into someones home. Fancy looking houses had high class security, apartment buildings required someone actually letting you in and broken down houses often homed anxious drug addicts or drunks who would fight back. He’d learnt that the hard way. So a nice average house with a nice middle class family were the perfect victims.He easily got over their back garden fence, his 6ft height giving him an advantage once more. It had to be around 2am since the streetlights were out and he couldn’t see a damn thing. He stood in the dark for a while, letting his eyes adjust.

He’d always liked the darkness of the night. With a height such as his, it was the only thing that really hid him from the world. And it was one of the only things in life that was consistent. Family, friends, relationships; they all came to an end. Not that he’d ever had many friends or even actually been in a relationship. Well, there was one guy, but that had ended with him leaving the country and was an entirely different story in itself. But the night came everyday. It always had and it always would. There was something so comforting about it and the darkness that it brought that he would often find himself walking late into the night, just enjoying the serenity. Even now, standing in a strangers garden, he allowed himself a moment of appreciation.

And then he saw it.

The sharp glimmer of metal propped up against a wooden shed. He could almost feel the weight of the weapon in his hand already. He stalked over to the axe and swiped it upwards in one swift motion. It was slightly heavier than ones before, meaning it must have been a better make. He did love good quality. It was sharp, he could tell that much from lightly running his thumb over the blade, sending light shivers down his spine.

This is where it began. He could feel it. The excitement, the adrenaline, pulsing through him and ever so slowly growing. God, he _loved_ it.

Axe in hand, he continued across the garden to the back door, the porch light flicking on when it sensed him and making him cringe. He pushed down the handle, tutting in annoyance at the locked door. You’d be surprised how many people didn’t lock their doors with a known serial killer stalking the streets. He kneeled down, placing the axe beside him and reaching around to pull a screwdriver out of his back pocket. Then he got to work. It took a little while, but then the bottom panel of the door was off and he could feel the warmth from inside the house seeping into his skin. He put the screwdriver back into his pocket, reaching up and unlocking the door from the inside with a light click. Picking up the axe once more, he extended to his full height and entered the property.

The inside of the house was just as average as the outside. It was dark, of course, but he could make out that he was standing in a kitchen. A quick scan of the room had his eyes landing on the pile of unwashed dishes left in the sink; food not even scraped into the bin. He cringed. That was a sin in itself. Maybe whoever lay upstairs deserved the fate that was coming to them. He continued on through the house, feeling his way around the furniture till he reached stairs. _For the love of God please don’t creak._ And they didn’t. The landing only contained 3 doors, but unlucky for him they were all closed. It was all about choice at this point. He slowly opened the door closest to him, axe handle gripped tightly in his hand as the door creaked upon opening. Just a bathroom. _1 down 2 to go_. He moved towards the second door, pausing to listen for movement when the floorboards settled under his weight. Nothing, so onwards he went. The second door didn’t creak as much as the first, but it did reveal more promising results.

It would have been quite cute; the parents and their daughter all curled up together in the bed - if he had given a shit. From what he could see in the dark room, the little girl appeared no older than two, laying on her mothers chest with her small thumb tucked into her mouth. He moved further in, coming up next to the males side of the bed. It would be easier to take him out first and then deal with the woman if she woke up. He readjusted his grip on the axe, his whole body itching to just drive the metal straight into the mans skull. Being closer to the stranger now, he could make out tanned skin that had his mind wandering back to a certain librarian that he knew.

He smiled. Things were going well for him and Ryan; it was coming up to a month of them seeing each other soon and he just knew that Ryan couldn’t be happier. He had the man wrapped on his every move. Yet, at the same time Ryan left him with a deep feeling in his stomach - almost the same feeling he got from slicing into someones skin - _a feeling that he wanted so much more of_. He already knew that Ryan was different. Nothing had ever come close to the thrill of being in control of someones life, to the knowledge that he was the last thing dying eyes would ever see, but Ryan did. Ryan had a power over him and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t scare and excite him all at once.

He reached his hand into his front jean pocket, pulling out a single, sharp razor blade. He positioned it just under the mans jaw, not yet touching his skin as his other hand hovered over his mouth, ready to clamp down and dull any sounds. Not the eyes, though. Never the eyes. He wanted to see it; the fear, the panic and then the distant, cold stare. He liked the transition between them.

The axe discarded against the bed next to him, in one swift motion he pushed his hand down over the mans face, watching his eyes snap open as his body began to flail. The stranger was moving too much, meaning he only got half way through the mans neck before the wife stirred awake.

And then all hell broke loose.

She screamed - a raw, throat tearing scream that he was almost certain would have hurt the child’s ears. He rolled his eyes as she scrambled out of bed, the baby held tight in her arms. Her slow movements gave him time to abandon the razor, swiping up the axe with ease. The scream must have alerted someone, so he’d have to work fast. The darkness of the room gave him an advantage as his eyes were adjusted already, allowing him to swing the axe in the woman’s direction. It collided with her head in such a harsh motion that it sent her stumbling to the side, screaming louder than he would have thought possible. He had to admit he was quite impressed she was still standing after that; so she got determination points at least. Time was running out for him to get away before any neighbours came to see what all the fuss was about so he swung once more, putting all of his might into it and aiming in the woman’s direction. An echoing crack erupted around the room and he just knew that he’d done some major damage to whatever it had connected with.

He backed out of the room, running as fast down the stairs as his long limbs would carry him without falling, through the living room and kitchen and out of the back door. The axe was thrown to the side of him as he ran across the porch, heading straight for the fence and using the momentum of his run up to send him over the top quickly. He ran a while longer, through alleyways and passages, once again thanking whoever turned off the streetlights. And then he started to walk, to get his breath back. He didn’t want to be seen running from a crime, so a nice leisurely stroll was the way forward. The perfect picture of innocence and calm.

But on the inside he was _burning_. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, setting his whole body alight with energy, but all he could do was walk slowly through the streets of New Orleans. And he was angry too. _So angry_. Because that was the second attack where things had fucked up because of a family. Joesph Romanos nieces had seen him and while they couldn’t identify him; it still panicked him slightly. And now this mans fucking wife just had to scream at the sight of him attempting to murder her husband. Family ruined everything. He should have risked the extra seconds and taken his time to deal with her nice and slow. Should have really made her feel the consequences of her actions. Hopefully whatever injuries she’d received would do that much.

On he walked, trying to calm himself down in whatever way he could. He half considered going to Ryans apartment, but knew the man would be asleep and he didn’t want to wake him, so he just went home. In the end he just collapsed on his own sofa, suddenly too tired to make those extra steps to his bed. Or maybe it was because sleeping alone in his bed had started to make him awfully sad since he’d met Ryan.

Closing his eyes with a sigh, Shane fell asleep with Ryan on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title -  
> Let’s Kill Tonight - Panic! At the Disco
> 
> @sig-nifier on tumblr! Feel free to leave a comment or message me!


	6. II. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shane?” 
> 
> “No, it’s the axeman.” 
> 
> “Excellent, come on up.”

Ryan2:47pm

Can’t believe a 2 year old died in that attack.

Shane2:49pm

Sure was a messy one.

Ryan2:50pm

Come over?

Shane2:53pm

Worried our beloved axeman will send you something weird again?

Ryan2:54pm

Am i not allowed to want to see you?

Ryan2:55pm

Okay yes pls come protect me

Shane2:56pm

On my way ;)

 

-

 

15 minutes later and Shane was pulling into the carpark of Ryans apartment. He’d been called in a few hours after getting home last night to the crime scene, allowing him to subtly clear up any evidence that pointed towards him as usual. He also discovered that the final blow had connected with the back of the baby’s neck - killing it instantly. The parents were both at the hospital and recovering so at least _someone_ had died.

He stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him and slipping his keys into his pocket before heading up to the front door and pressing the buzzer for Ryans apartment.

“Shane?”

“No it’s the axeman.”

“Excellent come on up.”

Shane shook his head slightly and snickered as he heard the door click open. With his long legs he reached room 103 easily, Ryan already waiting with the door open. He laughed as the shorter man pulled him in by his collar and shut the door behind him before pushing him up against it.

Ryans mouth was on Shane’s in an instant, hands gripping his collar tightly to pull him down. Their bodies moved together - perfectly in-sync as they let their actions say everything they couldn’t. Ryan sighed into the taller mans mouth as he felt hands roaming underneath his shirt, gripping his sides tightly. He had soon been picked up, arms snaking around Shane’s neck for balance. Before he knew it he had been placed on his kitchen counter, Shane breaking the kiss to pull Ryans shirt over the top of his head. Shane’s mouth was all over his body, earning a shaky breath in return. Teeth grazed skin, sending _slight_ warning signs flashing in Ryans head when the pressure was just a little too harsh to be playful, but then Shane was pushing rough kisses into his skin, moving down his body, and all thought left Ryan’s mind. He felt desperate hands unbuckling his belt, he heard the scratch of metal against wood as it was slid across the floor - and then Shane’s mouth was on his again. There was a slight struggle to get Ryan’s trousers off without breaking the kiss and then - “ _fuck_.”

Shane had broken away, looking into Ryan’s eyes and breathing heavily as he palmed the shorter man over the top of his underwear. The signature smirk plastered on his face. Ryan gripped the front of Shane’s shirt tightly, almost certain he could rip it open if he applied anymore pressure. Shane’s movements were so _tauntingly slow_ that Ryan just knew he was teasing him for a reaction. Half of him didn’t want to give the man the satisfaction, but the other half of him was so focused on Shane’s hand that his hips subconsciously bucked up to try and gain more friction.

“Someone’s eager.” Shane’s voice was barely a whisper in his ear; low and completely in control as he accompanied his taunt with a soft nibble of Ryan’s jaw.

“Fuck you.” His voice came out a lot steadier than he felt, giving him some kind of satisfaction that he wasn’t showing Shane just how much he was affecting him. And then Shane’s hand had dipped into the waistband of Ryan’s boxers, his hand cold compared to the warmth of Ryan’s length as he just held him there, squeezing lightly as Ryan outright moaned.

“Now.” Shane applied a single, agonisingly slow stroke to the mans cock. “Is that anyway to talk to me?”

Ryan’s head fell forward against Shane’s chest as he whimpered, shifting on the kitchen counter in attempt to gain something, anything, from Shane’s now still hand.

“That wasn’t rhetorical.” It was practically impossible for Ryan to be anymore turned on than he was in that moment. He let out a shaky ‘no’, half of the word turning into a groan when Shane used his thumb to lightly spread the pre-cum forming around the head of his dick.He felt hot breath on his neck once more, head the praise for his response and then once again felt teeth graze underneath his jaw. Ryan’s breath fell out uneven as he felt Shane’s mouth working a dark mark into his neck, the mans tongue wet and hot against his already flustered skin. Then Shane picked up the pace. He gripped Ryan’s cock tightly, pumping the shorter man so harshly that Ryan was sure he might catch on fire from the friction.

Ryan came with a loud moan, his eyes squeezed shut as Shane slowed his hand, riding him through his orgasm. He felt Shane shift slightly, removing his hand from his underwear, so he opened his eyes and took his head away from Shane’s chest.

The taller man looked Ryan dead in the eye as he licked a single, sinful stripe from the palm of his hand to his fingertips, gathering Ryan’s cum on his tongue before using his other hand to pull the man into a gentle kiss, passing the sin into Ryan’s own mouth with one swipe of his tongue.

It was the hottest kiss Ryan had ever been apart of.

“I think I should go take a shower.” Ryan dropped his gaze from Shanes, suddenly very much aware of what had really just happened and somewhat embarrassed. All he got in return was an innocent smile, but Shane’s eyes betrayed him.

“I think i’ll join you.”

 

-

 

Shane sat, his hand in Ryan’s hair as the shorter man lay across the sofa with his head in Shane’s lap as he read about the new axeman attack of last night.

He had started to understand, this month spent with Ryan, what people meant when they talked about feeling butterflies. Half the time he found himself wondering what Ryan would think, what he would do before making a decision. He checked his appearance twice in the mirror before leaving the house, just in case he bumped into him unplanned. He’d even changed his cologne to match the one he’d seen in Ryan's bathroom. Just being around the man had Shane wanting to touch him. Not even in a sexual way. Well, yes, in that way, but he also wanted to feel the mans hand in his. He wanted to feel the vibrations when he laughed. He wanted to feel _Ryan_.

Shane had never felt this way about someone before. The only other relationship he’d been in had been..experimental, to say the least. He hadn’t really been into the guy, Shane had just wanted to see how far you could push a person before they broke. And he’d discovered that for that particular man it had only taken 3 weeks. 3 weeks and the man was crushed and it had interested him, it had really interested him. So he moved to New Orleans, made things just a little bit more extreme with the whole axeman thing, and set out to do the whole thing all over again.

That’s when he’d met Ryan and things had changed. His whole idea of the human race and their reactions had been flipped. You see, Ryan was nothing like most people. With most people, you show them a photo of a dismembered body and they freak out, give you a disgusted look for even showing them that. Not Ryan. Ryan actively searched for photos and stories, making him so fascinat-

“Shane, you listening?” Ryans voice cut through Shane’s thoughts.

“Hm? Oh yeah, sure.”

“Wow. Very convincing. Get you a boyfriend who listens to you.” Ryan laughed, shaking his head slightly in Shane’s lap, not seeming to realise what he had said.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Shane raised an eyebrow, smirking at the man laying on him.

Ryan’s smile dropped, his face paling slightly as he frowned, suddenly become a lot more interested in his phone. “Uh..well I mean, if you want to be, of course. I know it’s only been a month but, I don’t know. I like you.”

Shane had always loved flustered men. He ran a thumb over Ryan’s bottom lip, silencing the man. “Boyfriend it is. Now what were you trying to tell me?”

Ryan smiled, a light blush creeping up onto his skin. He turned his attention back to the article on his phone. “You know the woman of the recent attack? She’s claiming that two guys, Iorlando Jordano and his son Frank were the ones to attack her and her family.”

Shane could have burst out laughing right then. “Oh really?” He threw as much interest and shock into his voice as he could.

“That being said, Iorlando is 69 years old with severe health conditions and Frank weighs over 200 pounds. Sure, they could have attacked them, but get away as fast as the guy did? I doubt it.”

“And i’m guessing you don’t know the guys, so there would be no explanation for what you were sent.”

Ryan nodded. “They’ve been arrested anyway, but I really don’t think it’s them.” He got a shrug from the older man.

“Let’s just hope the attacks will stop.”

Ryan sat up, spinning around and sitting crossed legged on the sofa, facing Shane. He nodded, smiling slightly and letting his eyes roam his boyfriends face. There was a small, dark brown patch on the corner of Shane’s shirt collar. He frowned, his hand subconsciously reaching out to touch it. “Is that blood?”

Shane caught Ryan’s wrist in his large hand, holding it away from him. He mentally cursed himself for falling asleep in last nights clothes. “Cut myself shaving, that’s all.” He offered a reassuring smile, moving his grip to hold Ryan’s hand affectionately instead of the possessive grip he held.

Ryan often found that you could tell a lot by a person through their eyes. He was quite a spiritual person, at times, so the phrase that eyes were ‘the windows of the soul’ was something he believed in. A person could do all they tried to hide their emotions in their face, but their eyes often betrayed them. You could tell when someones upset, ecstatic, angry, lying; all through two balls of flesh. It was one of the rare things that a human being couldn’t control. And you could use them to your advantage too. You could throw in a puppy dog look, force out tears, to guilt someone into something - a thing Ryan may do more than he’d like to admit. But caught off guard, eye’s didn’t lie.

In that moment, despite Shane’s smile, his eyes had been completely dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title -  
> II. Shadows - Childish Gambino
> 
> @sig-nifier on tumblr! Feel free to leave a comment or message me!


	7. You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fuck off, I know you’re not a fucking serial killer.” 
> 
> Shane just laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can’t believe the support this story has gotten. Thank you so much to everyone whose read this!  
> Your comments mean the absolute world to me and make my day.  
> So glad you’re all enjoying this, thank you again!

Ryan believed he was a good person. He always payed bills on time, he was nice to his neighbours and just an all round good citizen. Therefore, he liked to believe that people around him were equally as good. Especially the people he cared for. And he had tried, he had really tried to see all the good in Shane, and for a while it had worked, but he couldn’t escape the feeling that there was something not quite right about the man. Shane was just so suspicious and Ryan was growing more paranoid as time went on.

So there he was. 2am. Laying next to his sleeping boyfriend in bed and googling wikihow for how to spot a psychopath. Now, wikihow may not be the best place to look for these signs, but it had once instructed him on how to perform a seance and that hadn’t ended too badly. And sure, maybe ‘psychopath’ was a bit extreme, but he’d rather be way off than under do it and wake up to Shane storing human remains in his freezer. The way Ryan saw it, he would check for the signs, Shane would just be a completely normal guy, Ryan would just ride this off as paranoia from one too many murder stories and they could both laugh about it later.

Most of the signs that the website was telling him about were things that Ryan wasn’t too sure could count. ‘Consider their moral code.’ Both Ryans and Shanes moral code had gone out the window when they’d both taken an interest in crime, so that didn’t really work. Ryan sighed, not sure that he knew enough about the man to determine if these signs applied to him. Jesus christ what was he doing?

Shane was his boyfriend. Shane cared about him. All this doubt was just coming from paranoia that stemmed from the axemans existence. That was all. Ryan locked his phone and put it back on the nightstand, shimmying back down under the covers. Shane shifted slightly in his sleep, his arm moving to pull Ryan towards him. Ryan knew he had no reason to doubt.

 

-

 

“You want a coffee?”

“Nah, can’t stand the stuff.”

Ryan could have sworn he physically felt his blood freeze as it ran through his veins. “Right.”

All previous doubt that had flown from his mind came rushing back like a slap in the face. Couldn’t stand the stuff. Couldn’t stand the stuff? The second time he had met the man had been in a fucking coffee shop, how could he not like coffee. His mind was so distracted he hadn’t noticed the overflowing mug he had been continuously pouring. “Shit.”

“You okay?” Ryan looked up from the mess he had made on the counter, seeing Shane by his side.

He had an overwhelming urge to step backwards.

Shane was shirtless, wearing nothing but tracksuit bottoms as the pair had only recently gotten out of bed. His hair was even more of a mess than it usually was as he’d spent the last few hours rolling around on a pillow. And his eyes. The soft brown reflected the lights of the apartment, slight concern seeping in as he looked at his boyfriend. He just looked so normal. Yet Ryan was finding himself distrusting the guy with the more time he spent with him. “Yeah, i’m fine. I thought you drank coffee?” He attempted to throw as little suspicion into his words as he could.

“Oh right, because of Romanos? I meant i cant stand homemade coffee. I know, it’s weird.” Shane laughed, running a hand through his hair.

Ryan smiled, deciding to pretend to believe the excuse for his own sake. He turned back to the small pool of coffee on his counter, grabbing a nearby cloth and starting to clear it up. “Yeah that is weird. Freak.”

He felt hot breath on the back of his neck, noticing the two arms either side of him that had trapped him in place from behind. “What did you call me?”

Ryan spun around, his face so close to Shane’s that he could kiss him if he moved a tiny bit forward. “I believe i called you a freak.” He challenged. Shane moved one arm, his hand coming to grip tightly on Ryan’s hip as he pushed forward, leaning flush against him. Ryan could feel the slight bulge of Shane’s jeans digging into his body.

“Are you forgetting who you’re talking to?”

Ryan shivered, almost unnoticeable. He knew Shane was messing around - just taking on the dominant role he took when it came to sex, but his mind couldn’t help but wander back to the wikihow page. ‘Look for a grandiose self-perception.’ Ryan mentally shook his head. No. It’s just Shane. He moved his hands over Shane’s back, running his nails lightly downwards as he felt Shane’s grip on his waist tighten. “I know exactly who i’m talking to.”

Shane’s other hand came to lightly hold Ryan’s jaw, turning his head and exposing his neck in a way that had Ryans heart beating fast - from excitement or fear he didn’t know. Shane leant down, nibbling so gently on his neck that it relaxed Ryan, his eyes fluttering closed. The pressure suddenly increased, a harsh bite followed by a wet tongue pressing into Ryan’s skin. Then his mouth was gone and replaced with a low voice in his ear. “As hot as you attempting to defy me is, let’s not forget whose in charge.” He gave one final nip to Ryan’s skin before leaning back and admiring his work. “Care to join me in the shower?”

Well Ryan couldn’t say no to that.

 

-

 

Despite the highly distracting events that happened in the bathroom, Ryan couldn’t shake the coffee comment from his mind. So he’d decided to take Shane on a walk around New Orleans and they’d just so happened to pass a Starbucks and go inside. It was warm in the building and quite homely, but no coffee shop ever met Romanos standards. But coffee was coffee. Ryan turned towards Shane; the picture of innocence for entering the cafe. Shane, on the other hand, didn’t look entirely thrilled. Almost disgusted. “What do you want?”

Shane shrugged, his eyes scanning the board for a while before shaking his head. “I’m not really in the mood, y’know.”

It could be a coincidence. Of course it could be a coincidence, but every nerve in Ryans body was on edge in that moment. He wanted to interrogate him right there, just really dig deep and ask why he’s so fucking shifty, but he didn’t even have a reason to be suspicious apart from his own doubt. That, and he wasn’t too sure the citizens in Starbucks would appreciate it. So he just sighed, shook his head and exited the cafe before the accusing words could fall from his lips. Ryan heard the bell chime behind him as Shane followed and was annoyed to see that it only took his boyfriend a leisurely stroll to catch up with his fast pace. “Woah, Ry, whats wrong?”

Ryan kept walking, not sure what he’d say if he opened his mouth. He felt a firm hand on his shoulder, stopping him, and then Shane appeared in his vision. “Ryan. What the fucks wrong? Are you mad I didn’t want a fucking coffee?”

He hated that tone. Hated how it somewhat scared him. Aggressive. Especially hated it directed towards him. Ryan felt almost stupid now, thinking over why he doubted Shane. So what if he didn’t want to drink a coffee in that specific moment? It didn’t mean anything. He sighed, dropping his gaze. “Sorry..I just..I guess i’m a bit on edge still from all the murders.”

He risked a glance back towards Shane, confused and relieved to see an amused smile on his face. “You think i’m a serial killer because I don’t want a drink?”

Ryan rolled his eyes, shoving Shane’s hand off his shoulder and taking off walking again. He couldn’t help the small smile that had fallen onto his lips as his worry melted away. He allowed Shane’s arm to be thrown over his shoulders as he fell in step beside him. “Fuck off, I know you’re not a fucking serial killer.”

Shane just laughed.

 

-

 

He knew he had fucked up the moment he’d said he didn’t like coffee. What the fuck was wrong with him? He could have been caught out. He could have lost Ryan. There were better ways to have dealt with that situation and he was lucky he had Ryan wrapped around his finger - it made him easier to convince. But he knew that Ryan grew more suspicious with every move Shane made. The man was so completely obsessed with murderers, that maybe he wouldn’t react too badly if he just came clean. No. Who was he kidding? Ryan would freak the fuck out.

Shane would just have to pray he didn’t slip up anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title -  
> You - The 1975
> 
> @sig-nifier on tumblr! Feel free to leave a comment or message me!


	8. Save Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, Shane clearly didn’t share the overwhelming goodness that his boyfriend seemed to cling to - so there he was, ready for murder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry this took so long i’ve started up sixth form again now im done with exams and off study leave and its just been a lot

With the arrest of Iorlando and Frank Jordano, New Orleans had fallen into a state of calm. Too calm. So Shane had decided that it was time to shake things up a bit.

Steve Boca was a grocer and the current residence of the garden he was standing in. He knew the location of the house and that the man lived alone, as Ryan - ever the good citizen - knew the man and had made Shane run an errand with him concerning Mr Boca. Unfortunately, Shane clearly didn’t share the overwhelming goodness that his boyfriend seemed to cling to - so there he was, ready for murder.

He’d never really thought about if he cared about being a good person or not. Sure, he cared if certain people liked him, but personalities were adaptable. You could make someone like you. The mind was different. You could ignore thoughts - push them as far back into your mind as you could - but they were always there. They would come back to you, late at night when you could do nothing but lay there and listen. For a while, Shane had managed to ignore it’s presence, just leave it at the back of his mind like some unwelcome guest, but as he got older, the noise just got louder - a static buzz that was deafening. He was 17 when he finally gave in. He took a knife to the family rabbit - slaughtered it so brutally that his parents were certain it had been a fox. Human beings were different. Easier. It saddened him, the few times he had killed animals, Shane believed that all animals were innocent; people, on the other hand, were not.

It was cold out, the weather living up to its annual expectations. It was coming to the end of October, meaning November was soon approaching and with it - Christmas. Boca already had his decorations up; a sin in Shane’s eyes, as October hadn’t even finished yet meaning it was obviously still Halloween. Maybe that was justice enough for killing him.

He had to chisel out the back panel as once again, the back door was locked. Shane entered the house, axe from the garden already in hand as he found his way to the stairs. He moved slowly, not wanting anything to cause a noise that would alert the man of his presence. All upstairs doors were left open, apart from one - a dead giveaway of Boca’s bedroom. He crossed the floor and opened the door, cringing slightly when the handle screeched from rust. Boca didn’t stir. The man was laying on his stomach, face pressed into the pillow. It gave Shane very easy access to the back of his head. He wanted to make this quick - just one fast murder to let the people of New Orleans know that the axeman hadn’t been caught.

Shane changed his grip on the axe, wanting to use the bottom of the handle to cave the mans head in; it would be a shame to stain such pretty metal, no matter how much he liked the contrast of colours. He put as much force and strength into his strike as he could, slamming the handle into the Borca’s skull. It took a few attempts, but finally the bones cracked, echoing into the silent room. One final blow sent a particularly artistic splatter of blood over the headboard, a small, satisfied smile appearing on Shane’s face as he admired his handy-work. Not bad.

Shane left the house - whistling as he walked.

 

-

 

“The Jordano’s were released because of the new murder attempt.”

Shane laughed. “Jesus, Ry, will you ever not follow this stor- wait, attempt? The man lived?”

Ryan frowned. He never said the victim was a male. Of course, Shane could have already heard the news - but how would he not know that the man had lived? “Uh..yeah. Ran out his house and to a neighbour and discovered his head was cracked open. He got pretty lucky.”

“Yeah. He did.”

 

-

 

Shane had taken it upon himself to run down to the nearest kebab takeout and pick up some dinner for the both of them, despite Ryans protests to just order the food and have it delivered. So he was keeping himself busy by tidying up. With the washing basket from the bathroom under one arm, Ryan moved into the bedroom. He picked up all his clothes before moving onto Shane’s, shaking anything with pockets lightly - he didn’t want to wash anything with coins in the pockets. He put the basket down to pick up one of Shane’s heavier jackets, reaching his hand into the left pocket. Nothing.

The right pocket showed much more interesting results.

Ryan’s hand closed around a soft material, carefully pulling it out and putting the jacket back on the bed where he found it. It was a tissue, slightly darkened in the middle where it had an enclosed object. He considered putting it back, knowing it might be a precious object and that he had no right to pry - but curiosity got the better of him. Ryan let the tissue unwind as he held one end, his other hand ready to catch the unknown object. Anxiety bubbled within Ryan, mixing with excitement as the tissue finally came to an end, the object falling into his hand.

All emotions died in his stomach. It was another razor blade covered in blood - almost identical to the one he’d been sent before. The question was: why the absolute fuck was it in Shane’s possession? There had to be a reasonable explanation for this. No. Not for this. Not for fucking this. He was void of all emotion, doing nothing but stare at the small object in his hand. It was the only thing he could think to do - just stare and take in the potential murder weapon that had been sitting nice and cosy in his boyfriends coat. Ryan was too deep in thought to hear the front door open, to hear Shane placing the takeout down before calling his name. He didn’t hear Shane’s footsteps coming closer down the hall. It wasn’t until Shane had entered the room, face entirely blank as he too stared at the object in Ryans hand, that Ryan even realised he was there. He looked the taller man straight in the eye, a chill running up his spine when he noticed a look of complete nothingness. No anger, no shock, no regret. Just nothing. That scared Ryan more than anything. Ryan couldn’t speak, he couldn’t think of any of the right words to say, so he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not that Shane spoke first.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title -  
> Save Me - XXXTENTACION 
> 
> @sig-nifier on tumblr! Feel free to message me or leave a comment!


	9. An Unhealthy Obsession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s you. You’re the fucking axeman.” 
> 
> “You’re just getting that now?”

“What is this?” He couldn’t stop the shake in his voice as he tried to remain calm. Shane took a step forward and Ryan automatically took one back, knees almost giving out when they hit the nightstand. 

“I believe you’d call it a razor.” There was almost an edge of humour to his voice and of course there was, because this was _just so Shane_. The man had been caught in a situation that suggested him to be New Orleans current serial killer and he was making jokes. Ryan could have laughed, if he wasn’t too busy hating himself for how much he loved Shane’s ability to joke about anything. Hating himself for how much he loved Shane. It wasn’t something that had been said between the two of them yet, but Ryan felt it everyday. He felt it when he woke up next to his taller boyfriend, he felt it when he saw him frown at the homemade coffee, he felt it when Shane made an insensitive, murderous joke. The jokes were beginning to become less funny as Ryan stood there. He could have sworn the world had stopped in that single moment - he almost wished it to. He wished for nothing more than to just leave the conversation there and go on about their lives together. But there was a dam inside of Ryan and the water pressure had been building.

It was time for the dam to break.

“Why is it wrapped in tissue? In your pocket? Covered in fucking blood for fucks sake?!” It took all of Ryan’s control to not curl his hand into a fist and cut up the palm of his hand. All he could do was continue to stare at Shane. He was calculating - Ryan could see it in his eyes. _Come on. Fucking lie to me you prick_. Shane sighed.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Ry.”

“How about the fucking truth?”

In one swift move, Shane had his hand softly around Ryans wrist, as if giving him the option to pull away if he wanted to. He spoke too softly for the words spilling from his lips.

“The truth? You want the truth Ryan? The truth is that the moment that i met you in that bar I knew you were going to be mine. I’ll admit, I didn’t expect to meet someone like you. So, I learnt were you worked and where you drank your coffee, hell I even knew your friends names before you told me, and I made you rely on me. It worked a lot quicker than I thought it would. One murder and a care package sent your way and you were practically begging me to look after you. Most people take a while. I do have to say though, I quite enjoy your company, you’re..different.”

“Its you. You’re the fucking axeman.”

“You’re just getting that now?”

Ryan wrenched his arm free with more force than was necessary, dropping the razor and heading for the bedroom door; but something stopped him. Curiosity had always been a fault in Ryan. “You..you said most people. I’m not the only one you’ve done this to.” He didn’t turn around, his hands on either side of the door frame.

“It was more of a figure of speech for dramatic flare, but you’re right.”

He turned at that, he wanted to look Shane in the eyes through this, hoping, praying for some honest sign of a joke. “How many others?”

“Just one, in Illinois.”

“That’s why you left?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“Rya-“

“Fucking tell me. Shane. Because any sane person would be out the front door by now, but for some fucking reason I am stuck here trying to find any ounce of sanity within you so I can stay.”

Shane almost looked sad, as if it was paining him that Ryan was angry. This wasn’t the way that Shane had wanted things to go. “I conditioned a man to love me. The same that I did to you. I had to leave Illinois because..because I would have killed him if I stayed any longer.”

Ryan felt his blood run cold as he drew the parallels between the two situations. He could barely stop his voice from coming out in a weary whisper. “Do you want to kill me?”

A look of shock ran across Shane’s face, as if he couldn’t for the life of him guess that Ryan would have asked that. He took a few steps forward, hands reached out to touch Ryan but they stopped when the shorter man took a step backwards. “No! Ryan, it confuses the hell out of me but you seem to be the only person that I don’t want, well, dead.”

“But you’ve thought about it.”

“I - yes. I’ve thought about it.”

Ryan was truly conflicted. Here he had Shane, his boyfriend, admitting to being the axeman of New Orleans and having thought about killing him. The man who had sent him polaroids of his dead friends body. But at the same time, here he had Shane, the man he loved, who held his hand in public and insisted that they share desserts. The man who sat through movies he had no interest in just for Ryan, and listened to his conspiracy theories. Logic was screaming that he shouldn’t even be debating this. That Shane was a murderer and he should head straight to the closet police station and get the fuck out of there, but his heart was holding on to the fact that Ryan had never found someone so perfect and so suited for him before. Some dark part of Ryan’s mind almost found the idea of staying with Shane and hiding his secret exciting.

“What are you thinking, Ryan?”

“I’m thinking that I can’t believe I loved you.”

“Loved?” A hint of sadness in his tone.

“Love. I don’t know, Shane.”

With that sentence, Shane knew he had him. He could see it in his eyes - uncertainty mixed with just enough curiosity for Ryan to stay if Shane chose his words right. It was an odd feeling, wanting him to stay, he had never felt this way about anyone before and certainly not about someone he had intended to fuck around with. Ryan was just so..loveable. He had certain quirks that made you want to just protect him, like the fact he always had to double check the windows and doors were locked before going to bed, or the way he mumbled under his breath when reading. Ryan Bergara was the sort of person who could light up a room just by entering it and Shane was sure as hell that he wasn’t going to take that away. Killing Ryan wouldn’t take the world away from Ryan, it would take Ryan away from the world and that - that would not be a world worth living in.

“I understand that you’ll need to truly think about what you’re going to do here Ryan, but you should know i’m not a threat. Not to you.”

 _You should know i’m not a threat. Not to you_. Just enough danger matched with just enough of the sweet, normal Shane that he loved and Ryan knew what he was going to do.

He crossed the room, pulling the taller man into a very passionate kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title -  
> An Unhealthy Obsession - The Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra
> 
> @sig-nifier on tumblr! Feel free to message me or leave a comment!


	10. Way Down We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'What are you gonna do? Kill me?' Ryan had shot back. Shane had simply laughed in response and pulled him in for a kiss, whispering a simple 'don't tempt me' into his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised! Sorry it took so long!

“I’m going out. I’ll be back soon. I love you.”

He tried. He truly tried. Ryan tried to focus on the last three words, I love you, and not the thought that his murderous boyfriend - who he’d accepted for some reason his mind was yet to come up with - was off out to kill someone. Things had been surprisingly normal since Shane’s confession and Ryan had even managed to make a joke about the situation in a burst of courage. ‘Pick up your damn socks off the bathroom floor, Ry’ Shane had complained. ‘What are you gonna do? Kill me?’ Ryan had shot back. Shane had simply laughed in response and pulled him in for a kiss, whispering a simple ‘don’t tempt me’ into his ear. “Right..uh..have fun?”

Shane chuckled at his boyfriends attempt. “I’m sure I will.” 

With that, he left the apartment. Ryan sat for another 3 minutes, scrolling aimlessly on his phone before leaping up from the sofa and grabbing his coat. He had an overwhelming urge, a small voice at the back of his brain that was telling him to follow Shane and watch - and he was going to listen to it. You see, ever since the confrontation, Ryan had found it harder to push back all of his dark thoughts. It was almost as if they were all rising simultaneously, simply because of one thing.

Opportunity.

As you know, Ryan had always had an interest in murder. In the most violent stories and their outcomes. It was a joke - to most - ‘Ryan fancies serial killers.’ ‘Pick your first victim yet?’ ‘Don’t tease him guys, he might kill you.’ All harmless jokes from friends and family and coworkers that more often than not, Ryan would lightheartedly respond to. ‘Sorry I’m late, had to bury a body.’ Or ‘You touch my food you’re next on the list.’ It was all fun and games; until it wasn’t. All this time, Ryan had allowed the thoughts in his mind to simply be thoughts, but now, with Shane, things were changing.

He’d been terrified at first, of course. He would jump when Shane came to hug him from behind, wouldn’t go near him when he was cooking with a knife in his hand and he’d even slept on the couch when he found another of Shane’s blood stained shirts. Ryan was absolutely terrified; until he wasn’t. Something just _changed_ , like a switch had been flipped, and he realised that he wasn’t that bothered anymore. He’d even found himself thinking it was sort of sweet that Shane had gone through so much trouble and planning just to get Ryan’s attention. So, when Shane stated that he was ‘going out’ and an opportunity to watch a straight up murder came into view, Ryan took it.

He left the apartment, wanting to be fast enough to know where Shane had gone, but slow enough to not get himself caught. Luckily, Shane hadn’t got far. He walked at a pretty average pace, causing Ryan to speed walk slightly to not lose him and his long legs. He had his black coat wrapped tightly around him, his hands deep in his pockets and he was _whistling_ , _for fuck sake, whistling_ as if he was on a nice leisurely stroll and not on a pathway to cause someone some serious bodily harm. It was a short journey, Shane quickly turning a corner and hopping a fence into someones back garden. Ryan decided to wait until he was sure Shane was inside, his heart hammering against his rib-cage. He was pretty sure he hadn’t been this nervous since he’d smoked weed and panicked about his mum finding out and being disappointed, and well, if there’s anyway to disappoint your parents; it’s to actively seek out and watch an innocent person be murdered. _Sorry mum._

A few minutes, that’s all he waited before looking left and right down the street and hopping the fence. What he couldn’t match in height with Shane, he made up with strength, easily pulling his body up and over, landing almost silently on the other side. Shane was clearly already inside, the back door to the house wide open for a nice quick getaway. Ryan moved across the grass, entering the silent house and trying to navigate without alerting anyone of his presence. He bumped a door with his shoulder, stubbed his foot on a couch and silently cursed, biting the inside of his cheek to stay quiet before finally reaching the stairs. He climbed them easily, surprised that he didnt stumble as he got to the second floor of the house and let his eyes adjust. Ryan turned his head to the right, looking straight into the dark room with the open door.

Shane stood with his back to Ryan, an axe in one hand and a shiny piece of metal in the other as he loomed over a sleeping, unsuspecting girl. She looked no older than 19 - 20 at the most. Ryan found himself edging closer to get a better look, surprised that the deafening sound of his beating heart hadn’t alerted Shane and awoken the girl. However, the noise of the floorboards shifting under his weight did that just fine. A noise which triggered a chain reaction of events.

Shane’s head snapped towards Ryan and his predatory stance dropped almost instantly. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Shane! Look out!”

In a swift motion, the suddenly not so sleeping girl jumped from her bed, strategically bending her knees before using her shoulder to knock Shane backwards and off balance, the weapons dropping from his hands. Shane scrambled to stand up and back away, his long limbs failing him as he ended up sprawled on his back at the foot of the bed. The girl had ripped a nearby lamp from the plugsocket and was using the solid ceramic base to attack the shocked Shane, kicking and beating him anywhere that she could.

Ryan stood, frozen and forgotten as he watched the scene play out. His mind didn’t tell him ‘Shane is a lot stronger and will overpower her soon.’ Or ‘you should stop her from hitting him.’ No. Instead, four simple words replayed over and over like an annoying song in his head.

_Pick up the axe._

He didn’t even hesitate. He ran straight into the room, ignoring the frustrated shouts and Shane’s cries of pain as he took the handle of the axe into his shaky hands and lifted it from the floor. It was a lot heavier than he imagined it being, but Ryan was a strong person. He turned to face the girl who had his back to him as she continued to attack his boyfriend and without even a second thought, he lifted the axe above his head and brought it down in a solid hit, driving the metal straight into the back of her skull.

The girls movements faltered in a seizure like state before the lamp fell from her grip and she went limp, the only thing keeping her up being Ryan’s hold on the axe lodged into her now dead brain. Ryan let go, the body and axe falling to the floor like a puppet who’d had it’s strings cut. The next thing he knew, Shane was on his feet, a hand caressing Ryan’s cheek as he spoke words that weren’t sinking in. “We have to go. Now.”

So they ran. Down the stairs and out the door, over the fence and down the street. Hand in hand. Shane pulling Ryan along. Ryan could barely breathe, a string of holy shits and holy fucks falling from his mouth as he did his best to keep up, stumbling when they turned quick corners.

Shane suddenly came to a stop beneath a lampost, the light flickering ominously. Neither of them spoke, just took in deep breaths and tried to calm their racing hearts. Ryan had never felt such adrenaline. “Shane, I-“

And then Shane was kissing him. A soft, loving, _thank you_ of a kiss that didn’t fit their situation at all. Gentle lips caressed each other in the cold night air, a coppery flavour joining the mix from Shane’s split lip. They kissed for such a long time that Ryan found himself distractedly thinking that they should stop and get further away from the crime scene or at least stop so he could breathe as he didn’t quite have his breath back from running yet.

Ryan also found himself thinking that he had just killed someone. A girl. A young girl who had her whole life ahead of her - except not anymore. A young girl with a family and friends and maybe a boyfriend or a girlfriend or a job or a pet or some almost forgotten plant that she still had to water and a life. Except, not anymore. But then Shane pulled away, breathing harshly as the dim lighting illuminated his silhouette against the night sky and brought Ryan out of his guilt and into an entirely different train of thought.

Shane was alive and breathing and his and Ryan found himself not giving a fuck about that girl.

Not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title -  
> Way Down We Go - Kaleo
> 
> Tumblr - @sig-nifier feel free to message me or leave a comment!
> 
> Check out my new bfu fic Hitchhikers!


	11. Let It Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had always amused Ryan when tough, intimidating people had mundane properties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this took me a long ass time. im so sorry and i hope its worth the wait.
> 
> also! check out my new fic The Scientist and I! or dont, but i'd be eternally grateful if u did ;)

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Ryan nodded, finally drawing his attention away from the small mark he could see on his floorboard. The pair had made it back to Ryans apartment with ease and Ryan had done nothing but sit on his sofa and stare since their arrival. “I’m okay.”

And he meant it. He was quite surprised. Although reading about murder had never once bothered him, Ryan expected some form of internal conflict towards his actions - some little voice telling him that he was a monster and that it should have been him and not that young girl, but there was simply nothing. No voice, no regret and no guilt. If anything, Ryan thought he’d done himself a favour. All of his hidden dark thoughts were no longer screaming to be listened to. Because Ryan was listening.

Shane nodded, a small frown on his face as he stared at his boyfriend. Ryan looked up, meeting his eye. “You’re bleeding.”

Shane pressed a single finger to the slight wound on his lip, pulling it back and seeing a dash of crimson red. He’d always loved the colour. He heard Ryan stand up and cross the room toward him, and then he felt his hands, his rough, warm hands on either side of his neck. He pulled him down slowly, capturing him in a slow kiss as Shane’s hands naturally found their way to rest on his waist.

A strange calm washed over Shane as he felt the familiarity of Ryan’s body against his. He’d been alone in who he was for so long, but now? Now he had someone to share it all with.

And Ryan - Ryan couldn’t get it out of his head. There was such a unique power behind ending someone’s life and Ryan was almost certain he could get drunk on it. He pulled away from Shane, his breathing slightly faster and a look in his eye that showed something had changed within him. “Can we..can we do it again?”

Shane raised an eyebrow, his thumb running small circles from its place on Ryan’s hip. “You mean, kill someone?”

Ryan dropped his gaze and nodded, suddenly embarrassed as if Shane would disapprove. Shane, the man who had manipulated his way into Ryan’s life. Shane, the man who had sent photos to Ryan of his dead friend. Shane - The Axeman of New Orleans and the man who held Ryan’s heart.

Shane simply grinned.

 

-

 

Fast forward to the next night and Ryan stood in his kitchen with a coffee in his hands and adrenaline in his chest. “Remind me again of the guy we’re going after?”

Shane paused, spoon of cereal halfway to his mouth. It was a very domestic night considering the activities they were about to go out and do. He lowered the spoon back into the bowl with a small clink. “Mike Pepitone.”

“And why him?”

“He lives in a somewhat secluded area. He’s got a wife and six kids, but that’s just all part of the challenge.” Shane smirked, casting Ryan a look. “Not to mention there’s rumours that he’s connected to mafia, so hopefully they’ll pin it all on rival gangs.”

Ryan frowned at that. “How do you know that? About the mafia?”

Shane simply shrugged, scooping up cereal and shovelling it into his mouth, causing cereal to spray out when he spoke. “I know people.”

It was hard to believe that this was the man terrorising the city. Ryan couldn’t help his laughter. “Let’s get on with it then.”

 

-

 

There was something different in the air. Ryan could sense it. Before, walking the streets at night, Ryan could feel the anxious nature of the people getting ready to settle down and sleep, could hear their thoughts screaming who’s next, but he just drowned it out with the noise of his shoes hitting the concrete as he built up his speed. Then he would leave for work the next morning and feel the relief that spread through the city as everyone realised they’d made it through the night. Well, everyone except from the family members who would wake up to bloody sheets and a borrowed axe. It felt different when you were the person causing such anxiety.

He had never truly understood before, why killers did what they did. Ryan thought back to one of his first conversations with Shane, where he had mentioned the argument of nature vs nurture. He realised now that it had nothing to do with either of them. It was all about power. _You feel the last bit of breath leaving their body. You’re looking into their eyes. A person in that situation is God._ He remembered the first time he had heard Ted Bundy say that, and now, now Ryan understood it more than ever.

Mike Pepitone had a pretty average garden, considering he was supposedly involved in a bunch of mafia shit. It had always amused Ryan when tough, intimidating people had mundane properties. There were flowers in a neat clump of flower beds towards the left, and a home made back porch had a sandy, wooden colour to it. Ryan couldn’t deny that it looked nice.

He turned to look at Shane across the garden who was currently searching for the axe that he was sure was somewhere in the garden. Looking at his silhouette in the dark of the night, Shane looked borderline intimidating. He was tall, Ryan knew that, but tall in a way that had you wondering what kind of strength came with such height. And he was silent, too. Ryan wasn’t sure how such a big guy managed to be so god damn quiet all the time. He thought back on the amount of times Shane seemed to just appear in a room - standing behind him in a mirror, suddenly drinking coffee by his side or just there to make a comment about whatever supernatural documentary he was watching. It had made him jump at first, but over time he had started to get used to it. Ryan was broken from his thoughts by Shane softly calling his name. Shane stood up fully, axe in hand that had the moonlight hitting the metal in just the right way. He came to stand next to his boyfriend. “You ready?”

Ryan nodded. “Let’s do this.”

They moved forward together, climbing the few steps of the porch and coming to the back door. Ryan pushed down the handle, and much to his surprise, it opened. He stifled a laugh. _Fucking idiots._

They quietly made their way inside, one after the other, and started to navigate their way to the stairs. They didn’t talk, simply did their best to use hand gestures in the dark. Ryan found the stairs first, waiting for Shane to look in his direction before motioning for him to come over. He started moving slowly, glad for the soft carpet that muffled his footsteps.

The carpet didn’t, however, muffle creaks of a floorboard.

One step up and the floor creaked in a sound that seemed amplified and Ryan could have sworn his heart stopped. He froze, heard no movement from Shane either, and listened. There was no sound from upstairs. Ryan felt Shane’s finger poke into his back, telling him to move forward, and so he did. He continued up the stairs, being extra careful not to cause anymore noise and finally reached the landing. He could feel Shane’s chest pressed close up to his back as a finger came in front of him, pointing out a door. He crept toward it, lightly pushed it open and stepped inside. Confusion met him first. He could see the bed, one of the table-side lamps switched on and a women sitting with her back to the headboard and her knees brought up to her chest.

Then came the knife.

A hand shot out from the left in a swiping motion, and Ryan heard the sound it made as it cut through the air. He was momentarily stunned, before he realised what was happening. Pepitone had heard them on the stairs, had been waiting for them, standing by the side of the door with a knife ready. He lashed out again, aiming for Ryan’s throat, but he pulled his head back just in time and the cool metal licked his cheek instead. He cursed, moving further into the room to get a better angle of his attacker, but by then Shane had grabbed Pepitone by the front of the shirt, axe forgotten on the floor, and swung him out of the room and back against the stair railing. Pepitone struggled, attempting a right hook with the hand that still held the knife, but Shane released his shirt and blocked it easily. They were facing each other now, and Shane stepped forward as Pepitone brought up a foot and handed a heavy kick to Shane’s stomach, causing him to double over as the air left his lungs.

Ryan stepped forward at that, coming to his boyfriends side. Everything had happened so fast that he had no idea how to help out, but his mind was racing into action as he rubbed Shane’s back. Pepitone had escaped down the stairs. Shane pulled himself to his full height, an angry glint in his eye that Ryan hadn’t seen before. He made to head down the stairs, axe back in his hand, but Ryan grabbed his arm. “What about her?”

Shane looked back into the room of the cowering women and shook his head. “We’ll come back for her.”

They made their way back down the stairs, both on high alert. Ryan voiced his thoughts out loud. “You think he left?”

He couldn’t see it, but he assumed Shane had shook his head. “No. He wouldn’t have left his wife upstairs.”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah, you’re ri-“

Searing pain spread through the back of his head - the type of pain that only the force of a blunt object could cause - and then he was stumbling to his knees, his vision becoming spotty. He heard Shane’s voice, a mixture of _‘Ryan!’_ and _‘You fucker!’_ and then his face hit the soft carpet.

His vision faded to black, but not before a single thought of _Shane_ crossed his mind.


	12. Born To Be Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane felt a fear so intense it almost overwhelmed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go

“You think he left?”

Shane walked slowly around the downstairs living room, axe tightly in hand, eyes squinting in the hopes that he’d see in the dark better. He shook his head at Ryan’s question and then realised the other man probably couldn’t see him. “No. He wouldn’t have left his wife upstairs.”

Ryan’s response came almost instantly. “Yeah, you’re ri-“

Shane whipped his head round as Ryans words cut off and were replaced with a low groan of pain. There was Mike Pepitone - standing over his kneeling boyfriend with a fucking fire extinguisher in his hands. Shane felt a surge of panic run through his chest and he couldn’t help the ‘Ryan!’ that slipped from his mouth. Ryan fell face down on the carpet. Shane shot his head back up to Pepitone, all his focus going on him. “You fucker!”

His hand tightened instinctively around the wooden handle and he rushed forward, ready to embed the metal deep in Pepitones skull - but the other man knew the house layout better than Shane could and he suddenly launched a small coffee table out towards his opponent. Shane cursed, hands flying up to defend himself and cast the object away. With the distraction gone, Shane looked back around the room, but Mike Pepitone was gone.

He threw a glance towards where Ryan lay on the floor, made note of the soft rise and fall of his chest and decided that he would be okay. Relief burst through his chest and just for a second, he was thrown off by how much he truly cared for Ryan. Of course, Shane knew Ryan was different to anyone he’d ever met, he’d never felt this way about anyone before, but he had always brought it down to simple curiosity heightening his other emotions, but in that moment; watching Ryan fall in a vicious act that was so similar to what he himself did - Shane felt a fear so intense it almost overwhelmed him. And just knowing that the other man was okay and alive and his had an emotion that was too powerful to be affection stirring inside of him. Some might even call it love. 

Shane pushed down those feelings for the time being. There would be plenty of time for that later, but right now, Pepitone had to be dealt with. Shane squinted as he looked around the room, searching every possible hiding spot, but found nothing. He took one final look at Ryan before moving into the kitchen. It was slightly easier to see with the pale light of the moon casting through the windows, allowing Shane to quickly deduce that Pepitone was not in there either. That only left the garden.

It was raining now, he realised as he stepped out onto the porch - a harsh downpour that would only get worse as the night progressed. Shane had always loved storms. There was something so violent in them that had him finding them oddly beautiful. He brought a hand up to his forehead, shielding his eyes as he scanned the garden. He spotted him, standing in the middle of the garden with the extinguisher in hand. They were facing each other.

“Fucking come on then!”

Shane simply stood, amused at the dramatic atmosphere and Pepitone’s show of bravery. He waited a second longer, letting the other man build up more courage so he could tear it straight down. Then off he went. Shane stepped off the porch, striding toward him as the axe glistened in the rain. He could see Pepitone tense, see the way he riled himself up before he too was approaching Shane.

Pepitone swung first. A heavy swing of the extinguisher that threw him slightly to the side when Shane ducked back out of the way with ease. Shane took that moment to land a rough kick to Pepitone’s exposed side, the man crying out and stumbling backwards. Shane attacked again, progressing forward as he threw blow after blow of the axe toward Pepitone, all of which were parried with the fire extinguisher. He was surprised the damn thing hadn’t exploded. An unexpected hit connected with Shane’s cheek, snapping his head to the right before he was engulfed in a cloud of white foam. He felt like he was drowning and burning alive all at once. His eyes were squeezed shut and he coughed violently, the axe dropping from his hands as he staggered backwards and for a second he had no idea what had happened. Then he realised that Pepitone had sprayed him with the goddamn extinguisher. His skin and throat burned and he cried out in anger, a deep, raw anger that burned just as much as the injuries to his skin did. Shane discarded all thought. running forward in the area that Pepitone was in and tackling him brutally to the ground.

The garden floor was slick with mud, the rain only growing heavier before thunder cracked loudly. It was a battle for control after that, and control was something that Shane always had. He punched Pepitone in the face as hard as he could, even lifted him by his chest to slam his body back into the ground. He could feel the other mans hands on his chest, on his ribs, on his neck; pushing and beating in anyway that would throw Shane off, but it was no use. Shane landed another heavy blow to the side of Pepitone’s head and the man seemed to falter. His hands slipped from Shane’s body as his own fell into a daze. Shane took this opportunity to get up, collecting the axe that was discarded in the grass and when he turned back, Pepitone had raised himself up onto his elbows, a look of pure hatred plastered on his face.

“Axeman.” Pepitone spat with a fierce fury, his voice coming out thick and gravelly in the storms air. Shane simply adjusted his grip on the axe handle, a cold look spreading across his face that complimented the blood of his injuries well.

“I always hated that fucking name.”

In one vicious swing he brought the axe above his head before driving it straight down into Mike Pepitone’s face. With the darkness of the night and the rain constructing his vision, Shane couldn’t see the final result of his handiwork, could simply make out the axe stuck in his flesh, but almost on cue, thunder roared out above him and brought with it a clash of lightning that illuminated the whole sky and all of its scenes down below.

If Shane had put anymore force behind his swing, Mike Pepitone’s face would be clean in half. The axe had struck near enough the centre of his head, splitting him from hairline to cupids bow. One of his eyes had popped out it’s socket from the blow. Shane could see the bones and flesh that had made up Pepitone’s facial structure. The left side of his face was even starting to peel downwards.

He turned, leaving the scene of the garden to rush back inside and find Ryan, still unconscious on the floor. He knelt beside him, laying a hand lightly on his back and feeling the warmth of his body through the layers of clothing. Shane sighed. “Oh, Ryan..”

 

-

 

Ryan woke with a groan, eyes scrunching shut in the hopes that it would somehow calm his pounding head. He finally opened his eyes, lifting his head and taking in his surroundings. He was sitting in the passenger seat of a car. His seat belt was done up and there was a jacket thrown over him. Ryan would recognise the smell of that jacket anywhere. He turned his head slowly to the left and there was Shane.

Shane was soaking wet, eyes trained on the road as he drove. His already split lip was bleeding again, and now he had a nasty cut along his cheekbone and a small bruise around his eyebrow to accompany it. Concentration was etched into his face and his wet shirt clung to his outstretched arms. Ryan couldn’t help thinking that he looked gorgeous all disheveled and drenched.

Shane looked over to him then, his expression softening. “Go back to sleep. We’ll be home soon.”

Ryan simply nodded, shutting his eyes once more.

 

-

 

The next time Ryan woke up he was wrapped warmly in his bed. The curtains were shut, so he wasn’t sure what time of day it was. He sat up, wincing slightly as the motion sent a shot of pain straight to his skull. He looked to his right, finding that someone had left him a glass of water and an aspirin, which he took gratefully. He slowly slid out of the bed, carrying the now empty glass with him as he left the bedroom.

Shane was sitting on the sofa when he entered the room, phone lighting up his face as he scrolled. He looked up, smiling and getting to his feet. “Hey, how you feeling?”

Ryan shrugged. “Not too bad. Yourself?”

Shane came towards him, hands lightly sliding down Ryan’s waist as he leant in and pressed a soft kiss to the other mans lips. “I’m okay.”

Ryan smiled when they pulled apart. Shane had showered, his hair soft and fluffy compared to it’s previous wet, stuck-to-forehead look. “What even happened?”

Shane took his hand, leading him to the sofa. Ryan placed his empty glass on the coffee table before sitting cross legged and facing Shane while he explained.

“Pepitone got the jump on us. He knocked you out while we were downstairs and then we fought out in the garden. I put him down.”

Ryan remembered now. “And the woman upstairs? What happened to her?”

Shane shook his head. “I left her behind. I was too worried about you.”

“Then we should go back and finish her off.”

“No, Ryan, we can’t go back to the scene of the crime, and besides I..”

“What?”

Shane sighed, turning away to stare at a small crack on the floor. “Seeing you hurt scared the shit out of me.I can’t be getting scared for your life every time things go wrong, and things always go wrong.” 

Ryan frowned, confused. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

Ryan’s heart dropped. “Like..us?”

“God, Ryan, no!” Shane looked horrified, reaching across to tightly hold Ryan’s hands in his, shifting closer. “I’ve never wanted to be with anyone before, but you? Ryan, you are everything to me. I don’t know how you’ve done it but I can’t go a day without seeing you or touching you or just thinking of you. Before all of this, before you, all I had was the power that came from taking someone’s life, but I don’t think I need that anymore. Not when I have you.”

Ryan could do all but sit, taking in the words. Shane laughed at his lack of response. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I’m not going to lie, I’m a little lost.”

Shane smiled fondly. “I love you. You’re all I need. I say we leave New Orleans, let the axeman die and start a life somewhere else, just the two of us. We've done enough here, the story of the axeman will live on forever. No more murder - we just go.”

New Orleans had been Ryan’s place of residence for quite some time. He’d built a life here. He thought of Andrew and Steven, his friends, the two people he’d been close to for most of his life. Was he just going to simply leave them behind? And the library and Adam. The first and only job he’d had in this town and it was so perfectly suited towards him. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to find that again somewhere else. He thought of the murder he had witnessed. Seeing that and knowing what Shane did had awakened something in him. Something loud and dark. Something that was begging to be listened to, and he wanted to. There was so much of this new activity that Ryan wanted to experience and have fun with, and now he had to give it up before it had even begun.

But then, there was Shane. Shane Madej. The Axeman of New Orleans who was willing to give all of that power up to be with him, Ryan Bergara. Ryan couldn’t deny that his life had basically started to revolve around him. They woke up at the same time, ate the same breakfast, watched the same movies, shared cologne and jackets. Some days Ryan truly believed that they had been born to be together. Ryan trusted him more than anyone. He loved him more than anyone. If Shane was willing to give up something that had consumed his life since he was a child, then Ryan could leave New Orleans.

Ryan smiled. “Okay.”

 

-

 

_7 Months Later_

It was cold at night in Morgan City.

The wind was harsh and without a jacket the weather would bite at exposed skin. But during the day the city was so warm that you couldn’t even leave a building without getting sunburnt. The contrast amused him.

The atmosphere was different to New Orleans, too. Without a well known serial killer threatening the lives of the population, the air had a calming and relaxed aura to it. He preferred it to the constant on edge feeling that came with living in New Orleans. Though, by the time morning came round, he had a feeling that was all going to change.

The knife was small in his pocket, easier and more discreet than using a heavy, bulky axe. It was slick with blood from the victims. He hadn’t set out to kill a whole family, it had just happened. It had just been so long and he’d been suppressing the urge since they left New Orleans that after he killed the first family member, he just couldn’t help himself. It was a simple thing to do.

You’ll understand when you kill someone.

So, off he walked, down the streets of Morgan City. He still hadn’t quite gotten the layout of the city memorised yet, but with a few more nightly outings, he knew that he would. But for now he had to return home, where his loving boyfriend lay sleeping in their bed. He did want to stay out a while longer, but he was tired and couldn’t risk being seen when the morning rolled round.

Besides, there was a place next to Shane in bed with Ryan’s name on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! The Axeman of New Orleans is finished!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone whose read and commented and given kudos! And thank you for sticking by me when I really had no idea where to go with this. I'm glad that I stuck with it and thats all thanks to you!
> 
> With this over, I'll be focusing on my new story - The Scientist and I, so if you want to read anymore of my works you can stick by me for that! Also, go ahead and check out my other completed fic, Hitchhikers if you haven't already.
> 
> Feel free to message me on tumblr @sig-nifier! I'd love to talk to all of you! 
> 
> Once more, I thank you again and I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it. 
> 
> I love you all!
> 
> -Signifier <3


End file.
